Hey y’all, it’s like 3am and I’m having a bit of a rough lil ride with my ✨trauma✨ and wrote this to calm myself down while I’m alone with my thoughts. I think it could maybe help some of you out there.
WARNING! This entire post is about sexual assault and how some of Karasuno would react to you telling them what happened.
If you have gone through this please remember it’s not your fault. It never was and it never will be.
Suga finds out after he notices you going through an especially rough day. The memories get too much so you end up telling him everything. Suga asks if he can touch you and when granted permission, pulls you in to a hug and doesn’t let go. He puts his whole heart into holding you and tries everything he can to make you feel safe again.
Tanaka gets angry. Not at you, at the person who did it. He gets so angry that he cries and punches a wall. He curses to himself about how he wishes he could have been there to help you.
Hinata doesn’t know what to do, he starts shaking in a mixture of anger and heartache. He refuses to cry but tears still slip from his eyes as he tries to come up with ways to comfort you.
Kageyama goes completely silent, his head down and staring at the floor. You feel scared at first, regretting telling him, thinking he’s mad at you. But he looks back up, eyes red and cheeks stained with tears. He wipes his tears with his sleeve and hugs you.
Nishinoya sits, shaking his head. Not wanting to even think about anything bad happening to you. He immediately asks for the name of who did it and swears to you that not just him but the whole team will make sure to hurt them just as bad as they hurt you.
Hey, take a bit of a breather before you keep reading. Have a sip of water and take a deep breath.
Asahi uses all of his strength to hold back his tears. He feels a massive lump in his throat that limits his breathing. He holds your hand and does the thumb stroke thingy. He reminds you that “you’re never alone”, “it’s not your fault”, “it’s okay to be upset”
Daichi freezes up. His fingers curl into a fist and he clenches his jaw. Yet, he sets aside his anger to comfort you. He says nothing, just holds you close to him and lets you speak for as long as you need to. You rest your head on his shoulder.
Tsukki doesn’t know how to react. He feels an unusual need to protect you. He doesn’t hesitate to express his disgust that someone could sink so low as to hurting you, especially in that way. He sits with you and listens to music to help calm you.
You could almost see Yams heart crack in half. He stays silent for a moment, catching his breath as your story seemed to leave him as a loss for air. He can’t help but apologise for anything and everything. He holds your hands and presses his forehead to them. You feel tears drip onto your wrist.
Kiyoko holds you the entire time you tell her what happened, she rubs up and down your arm and rests her head on yours. She asks very few questions. She very quietly cries and hopes you don’t notice because she doesn’t want to upset you more.
Yachi the poor baby can’t fully comprehend it. In slight denial that someone could do something so awful. She offers to go with you if you decide to report it. She wants to make all of your pain go away but it kills her that she can’t do it.
Gotta sprinkle a little angst here and there I guess. For real though I hope all of you are okay. I’m sorry if this post has made you go through some rough feelings, I know I certainly cried a lot while writing this. I’m sending all my love to you <3 I’m willing to write more of these if you guys have any comfort characters that you’d like some support from. Once again, it’s not your fault. I urge you to please tell someone or speak with a hotline if you are struggling.
cw:hints at a past toxic/unhealthy relationship, might contain errors
wc:tbc
an:i wrote this half asleep
you‘ve dreaded for this moment to come.
you‘ve tried to drag it out for as long as you possibly could have. but one can only do so much when something, had already been written down on your faith book. all that dodging goes down the drain when his brown eyes look you up and down while he stands by the door way.
“hey.”
“oh,”
just by looking at him, you can feel all the memories hit you like a truck. all the things you‘ve done just to drag this moment for so long, falls straight to that hole, dragging you by your ankles.
“how‘re ya?” he smiles so sweetly as if he had not just broken your heart merely months ago, as if he hadn‘t ripped it into shreds right before your very eyes, speaking so casually as if he had not just left you there as a broken piece.
“what’re you doing here, oikawa?” you hate that you easily allowed him to walk into your life again just by ringing your doorbell. you hate how easy it is for him to walk back into your life and act so casually. you hate how easy it is for him to see your protective barriers dissolve into thin just because you saw him.
in short, you hate him.
“i just want to talk.” oh, there he goes again, seducing you with his tongue as he did before. those words of his, they fall so easily from his lips. whether he knows it or not, it surely makes an impact on you. an impact you wish would not sway you.
“i don‘t want to. goodbye.” is your stern reply before you shut the door out. there is no desire in you, nor does you brain allow you to talk to him. however your heart, it so deeply wants it, no matter how irrational it may seem.
and as if he had heard your heart‘s desire, he sets his foot between the frame and the shutter. his hand on the wooden door as he looks at you with his pleading brown eyes.
“please,” he pleads. you hate it. “i‘ve— i‘ve got no one else to walk to. you‘re the only one i‘ve got left. i— i can‘t hold it in anymore.”
you hate him.
you hate this situation.
you hate it all.
you hate it so much because you allow him to walk into your home with his face falling into the crook of his neck. you swallow thickly as you shut the door with your foot, feeling his tears fall unto your skin as his hands clutch your waist ever so tightly; like you‘d run away if he doesn‘t.
as you lead him to the kitchen with his sobs falling past his lips, you also feel your tears brim your eyes. all your efforts are gone, simple as that, within the blink of an eye, gone as if it had never existed in the first place. you tried so hard to move on. for months and months on end, actively distracting yourself so hard to get over him.
it was stupid of you to think you‘re actually over him when you know deep inside you‘d let him so easily walk back into your life like this.
“i can‘t do this anymore, (y/n)!” he cries. a bottle of wine in his hand as he curls himself on the corner. you wish to yell ’so can‘t i!’ at him as well, but you can‘t. if you do so, you feel like you‘d break your fragile heart even more.
time passes just like that. and now it‘s quarter past three. you‘re intoxicated, and so is he. he‘s a sobbing mess, and you‘re no better.
“c— can‘t we just go back to the way it was? before.. before it was all so complicated..?” he cries, looking at you with pleading eyes. with those words, you only feel more tears bleed from your eyes as your skin grows warmer.
“tooru—” you stutter, clenching your fists as you wrap your hands around yourself. “we- we can‘t keep doing this, okay? i— i can‘t be your friend, we— i— we‘ve just gone through so much! and i feel that if we become friends again, it would just through away everything we had had. everything we kept so sacredly would be nothing.”
“no! i— we can try again—!”
“no we can‘t!” you finally exclaim. fat tears are dripping harshly from your eyes as you put your hands on your head, clenching the roots of your hair tightly. “no matter how hard we fucking try it‘s never going to work out! the ending will always be the same because— for fuck sake— you and i were never meant to be in the first place!”
as much as it hurts you to say so, you have to say it. the truth hurts, and it always will.
“so please… don‘t make it harder than it already is. we can‘t keep doing this anymore, tooru.” you mumble through your sobs and he looks at you with his tears already down his neck, flowing harshly like a river.
silence wallows you both. only the sounds of tears, sniffles, and sobs echo throughout the room. the smell of heartbreak reeks harshly in the air, evading the once cool air, causing it to go stuffy.
“i guess— i guess we‘re never going to be it, huh?” he bitterly says to himself, looking at the ground as he swallows hard. “there really is no going anywhere with what he had, right?” he grits through his teeth, looking up and swallowing as he holds back the sobs stuck in his throat.
“tell me, did me showing up ruin things for you?” it seems like he has become sober, as if all the alcohol he had downed went out of his body. “because when i came here, i couldn‘t get a grip on myself. i wanted to maybe see, see if you would still take me in. i wore the things you like so that i‘d make even the slightest appeal. but i guess— i guess it won‘t do shit.” his voice falters with every line due to the emotions stuck on his throat.
you have no idea as to what you should say, because in truth, you‘re no better than he is. there is not a single bone in your body that‘s not telling you to run to back to him, but your mind seems to freeze your movements, saving you from the heartache.
“we- we never really went anywhere else, tooru.” you shakily sigh, looking down at him as you bite your lower lip. “so, we shouldn‘t be eachother‘s reason as to why we can‘t fall in love with someone else.”
you feel like dying as he nods, showing that he‘s agreeing. you don‘t want him to agree. no matter how much it hurt you and traumatized you to be with him, you can‘t just put him in the back of your head to be eventually forgotten.
“if— if this is then— let me— i—” he can‘t even comprehend a proper sentence. hands in his hair as he bawls his eyes out right there. you don‘t even notice it, when he runs up to you and hugs you so tightly. his hands are on your waist as he cries on to you, head above yours as he smells the familiar smell of your shampoo, hugging you tightly as he kisses your head. “i— i‘m sorry. we— i broke us off. i‘m sorry i broke your heart. but i can‘t let you go. my heart leads to you all the time, no matter where i am.”
“tooru—”
“but if me clinging unto you will hurt you more, then so be it.” he sadly whispers, giving you one last squeeze as he kisses your forehead lovingly, tears damping you up. “i won‘t drag this further. i‘ll set you free, set me in the past, and move on. i‘ll just take what i have left here so that you move on and forget about me.”
you can‘t even respond, unable to move as he walks past you, straight to your room. it breaks your heart worse, hearing him rummage through the closet you both once shared. it‘d been left untouched, you left it be. maybe because a part of you really hoped to let him back in. yet it with the turn of events, it won‘t happen anymore.
you stand there for as long as he finishes. he finally has everything he owns. the book you both read, the stuffed toy of him that he gave you, his highschool jersey that you loved so much, the shoes he owns that matches with yours, and lastly, the photo album you had made for him.
“i— i‘ve got it all.” he whispers, looking down as he clenches his full hands hard. “i‘m— going. i won‘t hurt you any longer.” his eyes never failed to meet yours as he speaks and he doesn‘t dare take a step towards you, in fear that if he does, then maybe he won‘t be able to leave after all.
“so maybe, this is goodbye.” he chuckles grimly with a forced smile, yet you cannot seem to return to him. not the chuckle. not the bitter smile. yet instead, the goodbye.
as the old saying goes, saying goodbye entails that you‘ll never see them ever again. you can‘t even bring yourself to speak as he walks away with a heavy heart, sobbing quietly before the door closes so loudly yet so quietly behind him. silence envelopes you as you fall to the ground before loud wails of heartbreak come from you.
now that he‘s gone, said his goodbye, he‘s no longer coming back, and now you‘ll be forced to let him stay merely in your memories.
content belongs to @shisnhou on tumblr! do not repost, copy, use, or modify!
a/n. hiii!! i’m so sorry for being gone for so long!! i just kinda got stuck and had no type of motivation to post on here at all. i’ll be back to updating regularly now hopefully <3 also!! if you asked to be on the taglist and i didn’t add you, pls let me know!
a/n. hiii!! i’m back, finally! thank you to everyone who was patient and waited! i was really struggling lol. i meant to get this chapter out yesterday, but i’ve been really tired honestly. lots is osamu in this chapter, he isn’t so terrible yall!! but anyways, enjoy this chapter! <3
the house was eerily quiet. yachi could probably hear the sound of your heart thumping from across the apartment. any attempt at calming yourself would just resort to your heart beating even faster.
you didn’t really know why you were so nervous. it was just suna you were talking to. over the past few weeks the two of you had become close, and fast. though, nearly all of your communication had been through texts with the occasional voice message thrown in, never phone calls. what were you even gonna say to him? what was he gonna talk to you about? was this even appropriate? it’s not like it’s easy to get any advice on your situation. hell, you didn’t even know if there was a situation anyways.
after five minutes or so, you finally got the courage to press the call button.
“hello?” the sound of his voice nearly made you jump out of your skin. you knew what he sounded like. you heard his voice countless times. why now was your heart fluttering. “not gonna lie, i thought you got scared and chickened out” the slight chuckle in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. he was amused, obviously.
“i’ll be honest, i didn’t think this through fully” you admitted bashfully. him agreeing really didn’t cross your mind. the idea popped into your head and without a second thought you texted him. if you had actually thought about it you most definitely would’ve chickened out. though, your logical thinking seems to go out the window whenever you talk to him.
there was a bit of shuffling in the background before suna replied again, “you? not thinking things through fully? no way” he replied sarcastically, something you learned he likes to do a lot. “but why are you awake anyways? you’re an early bird.”
another thing you’ve learned about him is that he knows just how to get you to say what’s on your mind. you knew your friends had good intentions, but they often treat you like a child. things you say don’t normally get taken seriously. sometimes you feel like they don’t listen at all, only hear what they want to hear just so they can tell you to “be careful.” suna however, he listens to you. he doesn’t undermine your feelings and he actually offers useful help. it’s helped you in the last few weeks.
you knew he would listen to you, but you couldn’t go to suna with all of your problems. especially not the problems you’re having with his best friend.
your friends are done hearing about osama. they don’t like him and they don’t think you should be with him. the only advice they’ll offer to you about him is to cut him off, and you’ve thought about that. a lot. you also really care about osamu. he hasn’t been the best boyfriend in the past, but he also hasn’t been the worst. you love him, you just don’t know if you’re in love with him anymore.
and that sucks because he’s trying really hard for you.
“oh, it’s about osamu right?” by now suna knows that you only hesitate when it comes to osamu. he’s not so different from you though, he doesn’t really like to bring him up either.
anytime he thinks about him a wave of guilt hits up. the two of you haven’t done anything but playfully flirt, but it still feels wrong. suna knows something like this would hurt osamu. that’s why he was hesitant to even pick up the phone. imagine how bad i’d be, getting caught talking to your best friend’s kinda ex at two in the morning. it’s a bad look. how would he even explain it? the last thing he’d want to do is hurt his friend, one of the only people that’s there for him. is he really willing to risk that for a bit of flirting with you? would osamu really be that upset over it?
“yeah. he and i went out today and i just wasn’t feeling it” you told him quietly, interrupting his train of thoughts.
“we had this discussion that has me thinking: oh! maybe we shouldn’t be together” you said, frustrated that you were still stuck on the events from earlier. you tried to move on, you really did, but for some reason your mind kept bringing you back to that one conversation.
“what was the discussion?”
“it’s silly.. i honestly shouldn’t even be upset” suna could almost hear the frown on your lips. he wishes he could see it. “osamu said he doesn’t wanna get married. he thinks weddings are a waste” you bit down on your lip.
whenever you talked to osamu about being in a relationship, it was always long term. talks about living together, growing old, and even kids. but oddly enough, the two of you have never talked about marriage. well not until that convo happened. osamu doesn’t want to get married, he’s got a negative view on it and doesn’t plan on changing his mind. you on the other hand, enjoy the idea of marriage. to you, it’s a beautiful celebration of love. you’ve always envisioned yourself getting married to him. sadly, the thought probably doesn’t cross his mind as much as it does in yours.
“you want to get married, right?” he asked and you hummed in response. “then, that’s not silly at all,” he spoke again after a few seconds. “if getting married is something you want in life.. be with someone who also wants it. you shouldn’t have to live your life longing for something you could’ve had” another wave of guilt washed over him. he knew how much osamu loves you, yet here he is, encouraging you to find someone else. “but you know, you could always talk to your partner and work on it together. you’ve got to compromise sometimes right?”
“you’re right, i should’ve just talked to him about it instead of silently being upset” you pressed your lips together, trying to piece together what he told you. “but, since we’ve got to compromise and all, doesn’t that mean i should as well?” you questioned.
suna laughed a bit. it made you smile, you definitely wanted to hear it more often. “shit, you’re right. i told you that i don’t really know what i’m saying. so just ignore that last part and focus on the first one” he said. “you should be with someone who wants the same things as you in life, long term speaking of course.”
“hmm, do you want to get married suna?” you decided you were done with the problem talk and switch to something more fun. you knew he’d reply with some corny pick up line. they never failed to make you laugh.
“if i get to marry you, then yes,” and if your heart didn’t speed up for that, his next line definitely got you going. “call me rin, please?”
you nodded with a grin , even though he couldn’t see you. “should we start planning the wedding then, rin? do you wanna be added to my wedding pinterest board?” you giggled, now kicking your feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.
him responding “what the hell is pinterest?” only made you crack up even more.
a/n. sorry for all the delays! i wont be updating for the next few days so this is all i’m leaving everyone with? </3. hope you all enjoy the chapter!
a/n. hiii, i hope you all like this au so far. i’m gonna be going on a trip later this week so i’ll be taking a little break from posting chapters probably. thursday will be the last update before my trip. also please check out loona’s intro performance for queendom!! thank uu <3
You are a jigsaw puzzle, and everyone’s jigsaw puzzle is unique. As you’re going through life, you are slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that you’ve learned, until you get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image we’re trying to make is, we’re just confidently fucking guessing. Fundamentally, you’re kind of always figuring out what your big picture is.
You are a jigsaw puzzle, and everyone’s jigsaw puzzle is unique. As you’re going through life, you are slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that you’ve learned, until you get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image we’re trying to make is, we’re just confidently fucking guessing. Fundamentally, you’re kind of always figuring out what your big picture is.
The most common way to start a jigsaw is to start from the outside — the sides and the four corners.
Who are you? What are you doing? Where are you going? Which path are you taking next?
You move stuff around, the picture changes, and changes again, and again, and again. In your part, the main bit of your jigsaw puzzle has yet to be filled, yet to be figured out. When asking your surroundings what was it that completed their jigsaw, what made them whole, most of them would talk about love.
It was all to do with love.
Now.
Seeking help from your surroundings, family or friends, has proved many times never to be a good idea. Your family believed success in life was achieved when three conditions in life were met : a job, a partner, and kids. Your friends were talking about a successful life mentioning trips abroad, being a girl boss and most definitely not having kids.
Needless to say, neither suggestions fitted your jigsaw.
Then, ten years happened, Shinsuke happened, waltzed into your life and just like that, he became your big picture. A life with Kita Shinsuke was everything you were and everything you’ve always been — but maybe, just maybe, 7 years of kinda-mutual pining weighted in your judgement.
“Shin, talk to me.”
You loosened your arms around his shoulders a bit, his head still resting against your chest and his own arms circling your waist. Your fingers threaded through his silver hair
“I love you, so much, Y/N,” he sighed and you rested your hands at his nape. “But we’ve been there before…”
It was all too frustrating and unfair, but that’s part of trying to figure out what your big picture is. You won’t always like or approve of the outcome, but you can’t always have what you wish for, may it be hearing what would make you feel better, or have it your way in particular situations. Shinsuke was never one to beat around the bush, and usually you wouldn’t mind. But damn, it hurt realizing you couldn’t fight anymore. Fighting any longer for this love meant losing both yourselves in the process.
“I don’t want to lose you, Shin,” you sobbed, unable to hold back the tears from streaming down your cheeks.
“Y/N…” he pleaded, drifting away from your hold.
Because each individual is as deep and complex as you are, they too, have spent their life working on their own jigsaw puzzle. It took three years of marriage (and a good amount of denial) to understand you both had been working towards very different images. Only then did you realize you wanted different things.
But you refused to ask yourself, do I admit the last three years of my life have been a waste? And do I waste the rest of my life?
It was all to do with love. Because apparently, you were nothing without loving him or without Shinsuke loving you, it had become an obsession, you both knew that.
“Why did you marry me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Shinsuke’s arms fell down from your waist in a slow and gentle motion.
“Because I love ya,” he replied.
“You love me?” you echoed, sobbing again, “then why are you un-marrying me?”
“Because I love ya, and because I want us to be happy,” he paused, “and we’re not happy.”
He wasn’t wrong, but damn, it hurt to hear him say it out loud.
Your jigsaw is your own, it cannot be shared or built by someone else. Your jigsaw is who you are, who you aspire to be, and among other things, it displays what makes you happy. Like Shinsuke stated, neither of you had been happy in this relationship lately, not because you didn’t love each other anymore, you had drifted away from each other because you were not meant to be a constant in each other’s life nor an important piece to complete your jigsaw.
Shinsuke stood up and made his way to the genkan, walking past the credenza. You followed, a few steps behind, watching him tie up his shoes and picking up the bag of clothes he originally came for. You tried to ignore the tug at your heart as best as you could when Shinsuke turned back to face you, a gentle smile adorning his features, golden eyes boring into yours, reassuring you, we’ll be fine.
“I love you, Y/N.”
I always have.
“I love you too, Shin.”
I always will.
You opened the door for Shinsuke, letting him go without a word for each other, then closed behind him, the sight of his back burning in the back of your eyes, one last tear rolling down your still wet cheek.
The place felt strange all over again, but it was a different kind of strange, like you didn’t belong here, like it was time to leave. You opened the drawer where you had stuffed the divorce papers earlier during Shinsuke’s visit, and found a pen hidden somewhere too.
It wasn’t insanity, delusion or irresponsibility, it was love all along, for ten years. You and Shinsuke loved each other deeply, but mostly, you loved each other enough to know it was time to let go.
– FIN WOUHOUH this was,,,, an experience for me to say the least, bc i got to practice writing an only redacted fic, but dAMN was it a pain in my ass
– the analogy of the jigsaw comes from daniel sloss’ jigsaw stand-up comedy show when the title, unbreak my heart, is the name of the episode is grey’s anatomy that inspired this whole series
– thank you to anyone who’s been following this little heartbreaking story <33333
We can’t keep doing this, we don’t know what we’re doing, never have, never will.
How true was it?
Shinsuke never striked you to be impulsive, he was practical, making calculated decisions, methodical, and from the moment you told him you were actually dating someone, you knew he was more than capable of shutting down his feelings in the blink of an eye. Never to be felt again.
It stung at first, it hurt that Shinsuke could act like everything was alright, like neither of you had harbored feelings for each other, which was hypocritical of you because you had stuffed your own feelings down too, and it was even more stupid since the both of you decided not to talk about it ever.
We can’t keep doing this, we don’t know what we’re doing, never have, never will.
How true was it?
Shinsuke never striked you to be impulsive, he was practical, making calculated decisions, methodical, and from the moment you told him you were actually dating someone, you knew he was more than capable of shutting down his feelings in the blink of an eye. Never to be felt again.
It stung at first, it hurt that Shinsuke could act like everything was alright, like neither of you had harbored feelings for each other, which was hypocritical of you because you had stuffed your own feelings down too, and it was even more stupid since the both of you decided not to talk about it ever.
Or at least not to talk about it at appropriate times, and most definitely not to talk about it just the two of you. It was rather straight to the point, in front of over a hundred guests at your wedding, in which Shinsuke wasn’t even the groom or the best man.
“I love ya, Y/N,” the words echoed in the air, “I always have.”
Way to confess after so many years of avoiding the inevitable.
“I want ya with me,” Shinsuke said, fist clenching so tight at his sides his knuckles were turning white. “I know ya love me too.”
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to invite your high school crush — with whom you’ve acted like you’d been in an established relationship for as long as you’ve known each other, to your wedding, but he was still your best friend and that was a bond you never wished to break.
Well, Shinsuke was still a friend you were in love with, and apparently so was he.
Which brought us back to the fact that Shinsuke wasn’t impulsive. And yet, as he was the only one standing in the middle of the other guests, maybe there was a possibility that Shinsuke was a bit selfish, maybe he wanted you for himself and himself only just as much as you had once desired him for yourself only too. You couldn’t help the single tear rolling down your left cheek and the soft gasp you let out.
You did love him, but you loved your fiancé too, or the difference was that you were in love with Shinsuke, and loving him was more like how we never have to remind ourselves to breathe rather than we have to always think about when we need to eat.
You don’t remember if you spared one last glance at the man you were supposed to marry before throwing the bouquet of carnations you’d been holding onto with a tight grip since the ceremony began.
Petals were stripped from their receptacle as they hit the ground hard before you stepped on it when walking to Shinsuke. You grabbed his hand, and without a word, you both escaped the venue, leaving behind the cacophony growing borderline apocalypse. You were focused only on the feeling of Shinsuke’s hand in yours, its tight grip, a grounding force in a moment of chaos. You had ignored the eyes shockingly tracking you as you ran down the aisle until disappearing a few seconds later. Guests and ex-fiancé be damned.
Nothing else mattered.
Only Shinsuke did.
As you reached his car, Shinsuke turned to face you, snaking a hand around your waist while the other cupped your cheek. It was a slow and tender gesture, but your mind was still running too fast to register it properly, the way his thumb caressed your cheek and his golden eyes bore holes into yours. You breathed in, admiring the view from the edge of his glowing irises.
“Y/N, I want ya to be my wife,” he breathed out, “L/N Y/N, will ya marry me? Now?”
“Now?” you huffed a laugh, leaning into his touch.
“Let’s get out of here, let’s go back to the farm and I can ask ma grandma to marry us,” he chuckled while panting.
You nodded, and Shinsuke removed his hand from your cheek, reaching for the key to his car in his suit’s pocket.
“Shin,” you cupped his face with both hands so he would focus back on you.
It worked, Shinsuke had a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and a look of fondness instantly illuminating his features.
For the first time in all these years of pining over each other, not-so-unrequited feelings and missed confessions, it wasn’t about daring to take a leap of faith anymore, kissing Shinsuke in this very moment never felt so right. Taking his hand, running away, kissing him, lips meeting lips in a sweet waltz, hands moving around one’s neck or waist, deepening the embrace and tasting more of the other.
“Y/N,” Shinsuke panted as he rested his forehead against yours, “I really, really want to get more of this, but first, be my wife,” he said and pecked your lips one last time.
“So demanding,” you chuckled and Shinsuke kissed that grin off your face before hurrying you inside his car.
There you found the crinkled groceries list, and because Shinsuke was delivering rice here and there — or once a month to Osamu, you found a pen carefully put in the glove compartment. With your new fiancé, soon-to-be husband, you needed to start somewhere, and what better way there was than writing your vows on the run? Don’t read, you said to Shinsuke when he tried to eye the paper over your shoulder.
“I need a dress,” you realized.
“But y’already have one,” Shinsuke replied matter-of-factly.
“A new one I mean,” you glanced down at the puffy skirt and shuffled in your seat, this corset was really squeezing you too hard you struggled to breathe.
Shinsuke seemed deep in thought when he said, “I think you left a dress at my house once, a white sundress.”
“That’ll be plenty enough,” you smiled at him, as long as you were out of your current dress, anything was enough. Though you had completely forgotten about said sundress.
It wasn’t long before you were back in Himeji and only a few more minutes before you had reached the Kitas household in the outskirts of the city. As on cue, Yumie had been waiting at the doorstep, hands resting behind her with a smile on her face like she’d known her grandson and you were coming. Shinsuke helped you get off the car and carry the hem of your dress so it wouldn’t catch the dust on the ground.
Truth be told, it felt a little bit awkward to be standing in front of Shinsuke’s grandmother after so long. Her stare, as gentle and soft as it was firsthand, had you shake in your heels. “Let’s get you out of this dear,” was the only thing she said. “Shin-chan, call the city hall while we’re getting ready,” she added.
He nodded and you followed Yumie inside the house to a guest bedroom. When walking in, you immediately noticed the white sundress hanging from the wardrobe door.
That dress.
The one you wore on a very hot summer day when you had offered to Shinsuke to bring him lunch in the fields, this was the lightest outfit you owned, but the next day you went back to Osaka without it and completely forgot about it.
“D’ya really wanna marry my Shinsuke-chan, Y/N?” Yumie asked while zipping the back of the dress.
“Yes, I do.”
You were taken aback by the question at first, but there was no need to overthink the answer, it just seemed obvious that you were willing to marry Shinsuke without a second thought.
“And d’ya know what yer doin’?”
You believed her follow-up question sounded stupid, and you brushed it off sigh the excuse that it was Shinsuke. Planning the rest of your life with him didn’t feel like an emergency at the time, it was simply Shinsuke, high school sweetheart, the love of your life, sweetest man walking on this damned planet Earth, a deity putting an end to chaos.
Maybe it was an illusion after all, a fat denial when in fact you absolutely had no idea what was in store for the two of you in the following years.
– *taps mic* hello everyone,,, in today’s episode of maria’s shitshow, this chapter was a pain in my ass (again)
– i started with a first version of it, didn’t like it, wrote on my laptop instead of my phone and now this chapter is done and 1.2k long lol
– next chapter will be the final chapter of this series, i wrote something like 300 words already, which might not be a lot to some but is a lot to me lol (i’m a slow writer )
sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader soulmate au (the last words your soulmate will ever say to you are written somewhere on your body) content warning: general angst, major character death, mentions of funeral, car crash, hospital
you wish you could’ve said tears made your vision blurry. but after all these days, your eyes were perfectly dry, no little rivers were streaming down your puffed cheeks, and you were forced to stare directly at your wrist, and the words tattooed there by some idiotic magic. some cursed, freaky foolery that made you rethink your life the past two days at least ten times, searching for even one mistake, for even one moment you could feel something wasn’t right.
but to your dismay, there was nothing. everything in your life fell to pieces so perfectly, as if you were the princess in a dream of every five year old girl in the world, only now could you realize, it was all too good to be true. well, except one part.
the words stared back at you, burning into your flesh, your glance holding them into place, as if they were to disappear if you did as much as blink.
“and one day more”, the tattoo said, directly and clear, never changing tint painted your skin black, no matter how desperately you wanted the letters to shift into something else. you wished to be hated right now. you wished for it to be an insult, and yet, the words remained as cheesy and painfully romantic as the first day you saw them.
so he wasn’t your soulmate after all.
all these years, never once had you doubted that. since the moment atsumu introduced him to you, since the moment he said “oh and i guess this is omi-kun, but it’s not like you’re gonna have a conversation wi—”
and since the moment he interrupted.
“i am perfectly capable of introducing myself, miya.” since the moment he glared at him, fingers constantly running through his hair, all messy from practice, by which he was visibly annoyed.
“hate to break it to you, but my actual prefered name is a bit more mundane than that cursed nickname”
“hey, i came up with that! it’s not cursed!” atsumu pouted, half mockingly, half serious,
“precisely” he mumbled, making the setter narrow his eyebrows even more, before huffing and proceeding to leave, “i’ll be coming back to practice. it was so nice of you to come! just yell at me if you want me to rescue you” he winked, and soon was gone.
“so? are you actually going to tell me your name?” you asked, one eyebrow raised, as his eyes focused back on you.
“please, like you don’t know” he chuckled, internally surprised with himself that somehow, his usual anxiety and disgust wasn’t kicking in, instead he felt relaxed and in place when talking to you, even if it was no more than thirty second since you met each other.
“oh, so you consider yourself a celebrity, huh?” you laughed, causing him to shake his head.
for a second he didn’t respond. you were starting to feel startled with the way he started at your smiling lips, but then he blinked finally, and answered.
“i have places to be and balls to spike,smiles. let’s just say…”
and that, that was the precise moment since which you knew. since the one line he said before running off, a smug smile you should never be able to see, and yet you did. you were sure and certain. this was your soulmate.
“… i only share that information with people i actually like”.
“sure you do, omi-kun!”
since that moment, your heart began to settle and as much as you pushed that thought away, saying that you were too young to know, and after all you just exchanged a couple of truly meaningless sentences with him, you couldn’t deny the fact that you knew. knew for a fact, that you’ve found your own person.
it was so random and sudden, so casual, countless evenings did you stare at your mirror and let your mind wonder, trying to find answers as to why you were feeling so strongly so fast. it was uncharachteristic of you, even if you were ever in love, you didn’t believe it could happen on such first sight, and yet there you were. was it the magic your parents always told you about? the one so inexplicable that they always stated that “you just have to feel it”, and “you’ll know when it comes”?
you thought it was just your lonely brain pulling tricks on you, until that one night you decided to hang out with the MSBY team, and went to tsumu’s apartment, waiting for hinata, meian and sakusa along with tsumu and bokuto.
you didn’t pay much attention to their talk, it was mostly plans for the upcoming season, until they shifted the subject.
“hey, did you ever read what was on omi’s wrist? he never covered it, but maybe that’s why i didn’t pay attention” the blonde wondered, his fingers playing with the edge of his glass. bokuto shook his head.
“no, i think it’s too personal to check. why’re you curious? you hope you’re his soulmate or what?” he laughed in his usual, loud way, and the word “soulmate” called for your attention.
“no you weirdo, it’s just he started covering it recently, and i just wonder, did he meet his other half?”
“my ma’ always said that there’re no other halfs, because you’re a person on your own”
“yeah yeah, cute, but not the point here, bokuto” atsumu sighed. “and he didn’t even tell me… bastard.”
there was comfortable silence between the three of you for a few brief seconds, before the blond setter started the topic again:
“hey, you’re oddly quiet, where’s your tattoo located?” he asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes, as you glared at your wrist, covered loosely with the bracelet you wore over it ever since you got the tattoo, it being something so intimate you didn’t want to share it with the entire world at once, concealers didn’t work on the ridiculously black tint, and the bracelet made it harder to read.
“you didn’t notice? thought you were observant?” you teased, making atsumu roll his eyes and take your hand into his, pushing the piece of jewelery away to read the caption.
“it’s on your wrist too? awh, maybe you’re omi’s soulmate!” he exclaimed looking at the writing from every angle possible.
“what’s written on there?” bokuto asked, not wanting to shift from his seat across the table.
“oh, it’s and—”
“we’re here!” hinata yelled at the same moment, giving you an opportunity to move your hand back.
and so it stayed a mistery.
you shifted onto the bed you shared, still messy after you both woke up those couple of days ago, earlier than you were supposed to, because of a text he got from his mother. a text that set him off for the entire day and finally caused everything that happened next.
your heart couldn’t stay still when you put your head over the pillow, the familiar scent of the other side of the mattrace hitting you no matter how hard you tried to hold your breath.
you noticed a small package laying on a nightstand next to your fiance’s side, and you went over to grab it, eyes getting hot when you realized what it was.
a set of band aids.
omi wore band aids on his wrist for as long as you could remember, but according to atsumu, he only started wearing those after meeting you. they were always on the inner side of his wrist, and after a while putting them on was his routine, it grew on him so much he didn’t even really think about it - just bought a pack once a week and put it on 2 times a day, for it to stay hygenic. didn’t make it a big deal or anything, but if you asked, he’d turn really gloomy, while also trying not to worry you too much.
“hey, weirdo, let me see what’s under that band aid. you of all people should know that if you get a cut, you can’t have it covered all the time, it won’t heal like this” you muttered against the couch you were laying on, gently grabbing his hand by the little finger, only for him to jerk it away, not even moving his gaze from the book he was reading.
“it’s not a cut” he just mumbled, eyes following the printed letters in utter focus.
“then why do you cover it?”
“i don’t want you to see it” he explained straight away, in the blunt way he always would, not finding any reason to keep it away from you.
“why?” you asked sincerely, apparently enough to bring his eyes away from the book. he reached out to grab the tips of your fingers into his and slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, a soft smile wondering on his face but never actually reaching to lift up the corners of his lips.
you couldn’t help but grin a bit yourself, making him raise an eyebrow.
“quit smiling at me, i can’t stop messing up what i’m saying if you look at me like that”
you giggled.
“like what?”
“nevermind, dummy. just… don’t worry about it. just trust me and don’t check, okay?” he pulled your hand to his chest so you’d come and sit beside him in the armchair. you curled up against his chest, hair still wet from the shower damping his t-shirt, enjoying the smell of his perfume and the delicate, intimate aura of the moment, even though curiousity wouldn’t let you out of its hold.
“is it your soulmate mark?” you asked, remembering the conversation between you and atsumu, about how he started to cover it.
“thought i told you not to worry, didn’t i darling? can i trust you that you won’t check?” he mumbled against your hair, and let out a breath when you nodded. he trusted you wouldn’t, and you didn’t.
although now you wish you did.
“what’re we reading?” your sleepy voice ended the silence in your living room after a while, your eyes too tired to see for themselves. sakusa shifted and relaxed in his position, taking a breath before he started telling.
“it’s called the orange girl. it’s a story of a boy reading letters from his dead dad, who wrote them while terminally sick, about a love story he shared with a girl, whom he met on the tram, she got his attention because she was holding a basket of oranges. she then disappears and shows up at random places at random times, acknowledging him but never actually talking, and they continue this hide and seek until she gives him a riddle, which he solves. they can’t be together for long, since he’s sick, but they had to, since their love was so true they couldn’t stay away from each other without falling into pieces. they were like the glue holding each other together, the mistery being the only shared link they had for a long time” he kept lowering his voice as he felt your head growing heavier and heavier against his chest, to the point he practically whispered.
“that’s… sad” you mumbled, half passed out, and he tried so hard to surpress his laugh, so it doesn’t bring you out of your blissfull state.
“i don’t think it is, no. see, they didn’t have much time with each other, but that was enough for them, they cherished every moment and would much rather spend so little together than eternities alone. no matter how long she’ll have to spend alone before meeting him again, she’ll love him forever, and so will he, even though he’s not physically there, i think it’s poethic.” he stated, getting hair out of your face, gently leaning forward to put the book down.
“just as i’ll love you.” he added, now thinking you were asleep completely “even if you’ll hate me. come on, big baby, let’s get you to sleep”
come to think of it, he always said he’ll love you forever. never an eternity, always forever. in his proposal, it was “always and for always” and whenever you fought and made up it was “for as long as the sun shines in the morning”
never an eternity.
it’s not like it was something bad, he could be really a master of his words if he wanted to, and if he ever used that one, you’d obviously get scared and tell him to quickly say something else, not to tease fate too much, but he never did.
as if he knew.
you wanted to show him just as much you respected him and his privacy after that night, scared by the last sentence he said, and thought you didn’t hear, and made it your goal to find a new set of band aids for the both of you. it was often “look, omi! i found ones with elza, from frozen! she reminds me of you, so here. take these”
“excuse me? if i get elsa, you get swen”
“why the hell would i get swen?”
or that time when for your anniversary you had ones custom made with some of his favorite song quotes. it was an inside joke, not much of a joke but much of an inside between the two of you, that always put a smile on your faces while still reminding you that before love, before passion and before even friendship, there was always trust and respect between the two of you.
and that reminder was often needed.
he could be a sappy romantic, at times, but it was still the sakusa kiyoomi you met that first day, still a blunt jerk, accents on jerk, still closed off, still a bit egoistic and cold at times. you two had similar tempers, and it often resulted in fights. very often.
you loved his fierce attitude, you adored his honesty. appreciated the straight forward notices when he didn’t like something you did, and liked the way he always spoke what was on his mind when around you. but sometimes what was on his mind didn’t exactly cover what you wanted to hear.
as you put away the box of band aids, your hand grazed over the photoframe still damaged from the one time he had to glue it back together after one fight, after he threw it on the ground to let out his anger in some way.
you yelled at him for your fair share of over twenty minutes, and only when your voice started to get sore, did he start talking, but whenever he wanted, venom could cover those sweet words he’d so often whisper, as if his sentences were sharp enough to cut through glass.
“why can’t you just let someone care about you?” you’d shout, voice cracking at the end, causing you to put a hand over your throat, realizing it’s time to stop talking.
“because you won’t understand! you’ll never understand! that’s the thing, y/n, you may try as hard as you want to, but in the end, you’re too—” he’d manage to bite his tongue before saying something he didn’t mean, and yet your eyes widened.
“too what? too stupid? too much of an idiot to mit the intelectual standards you have set? is that it?” you’d drag and tease, as every muscle in his body would tense up, fists curling as he’d take the frame and smash it onto the ground, soon realizing how much of an overreaction that was, but not just yet.
“stop putting words in my mouth! i never said you were stupid, for fucks sake—”
the door closing behind you would wake him up from his thoughts, as he whispered a quiet “fuck” under his breath, and go after you.
nevertheless you’d never leave, you always went to the bathroom, put some water in your face, take a few deep breaths, and by the time you were ready to go face him, he’d already have calmed down and would be ready to talk, apologize if it was his fault, forgive if it wasn’t.
cause after all, you were soulmates.
you were meant to be with each other. you wouldn’t survive with each other. two puzzles of the same picture, fitting perfectly, and not with anything else.
right?
he’d mutter the lyrics to can’t help falling in love while he’d occasionally do your hair, he’d come behind you while you were cooking and rest his chin on your shoulder. leave notes in your lunch.
he was the most thougtful person you ever met. the most precise in his actions, most affectionate in what he was capable of doing for you, most selfless in giving his all into bringing a smile on your face.
one night, he came home from practice, and there was just something so weird about him, you remembered, about the way he smiled almost like he was fifteen again, all excited and hyped.
you lifted yourself up from the bed, finding it hard to move, since the ache in your heart was roaming throughout your entire body,leaving you tired and defenseless. however you managed to get to the dresser, and search for one through your shirts.
“so, you know how i’m not the biggest fan of merch, right?” he said, his eyes lit up as he turned around to grab a nicely wrapped, loose gift from his bag.
“i know? you don’t understand the hype people get from wearing things that have your surname on it, you’ve told me countless times”
“yes, but—”
“you’ve also told me that doing figurines of living real people is somewhat creepy”
“yeah, that too—”
“and that the plushie they made with you scares the living shit out of—”
“i know! i know! but listen” he’d say, handing you the package. as you began opening it carefully, he continued “you know that because of privacy policy they can’t make the merch jerseys the exact same as the real ones? the merch has the surname and number smaller by 2 centimeters, and the space between each letter is wider by exactly a half of a centimeter. and since we’re redoing the shirts with a slightly different design, i ordered—”
“you ordered one more for me” you whispered as you held the soft material in your hands, the paper laying somewhere on the ground, by your feet.
“i ordered one more for you.” he finished, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture “i know that i’m not the best boyfriend—”
“fiance” you corrected.
“fiance, when it comes to letting you wearing my things, so i hope this makes up for it in a way?” he suddenly flinched as if he remembered something right in that moment “oh, and…” he reached to his bag again “these are my perfumes. if… oh my god, this is so pathethic, why was i so—”
you took the bottle out of his hand, and, since he didn’t like to hug right after coming home, you gave him the brightest smile you could.
“it’s perfect. you’re perfect.” you muttered, hand moving upwards to ruffle his hair and mess with him just a little bit “come on, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready”
would it be a violation of your agreement if you just wore his shirt now? it’s not like he’d come check. you didn’t need your own-his shirt right now. you didn’t need to have “the one original that no fan will ever have”, you didn’t give a fuck about those 2 and a half centimeters of difference that meant so much to you.
you hastened to open the bottom drawer, and then, folded nicer than your version, was the real, real sakusa kiyoomi number 15 MSBY shirt, the one and only, a little harsh from being used and washed a lot, but right now, there was no softer fabric in the world.
you hid your head in the folds of the jersey, begging for the tears that you knew damn well were building up to finally come out.
“you idiot” you whispered, “you idiot, you idiot, you fucking idiot!” louder and angrier every time you began wailing, the black material being the only thing covering your screams. “why’re you always so stupid? so… so fucking precise? couldn’t you spend one night, one night without me? one night in anger? you’d still be— you absolute, fucking idiot, sakusa!”
only anger and frustration came to your heart as you recalled all the things he did with you.
all the dances to classical waltzes at three in the morning in the small light over your oven.
your walks with his dog, faces white and noses red from the winter cold.
all the events you’d go to along with him, when he’d dress up all pretty and would ask you to do his tie, even if he was the master of the art himself.
the time he actually taught you how to tie a tie, while you were both drunk talking in your bedroom after a college party.
all the things he did for you. the good morning forehead kisses, the cups of hot tea with the exact amount of additions you liked, the way he always wrapped your scarf a little bit tighter around your neck, the way he’d remind you to wash your face if you were too tired to motivate yourself to get up and do it.
why would he do all those things with such ease, how did he memorise every single line of your character, every single habit you ever developed, if he
wasn’t your soulmate?
your sharp breath began to even out after a while, as you recalled the most recent events.
he was very set off that morning. his mother, who he hated with all the hatred available in his heart, texted him something about an alledged family dinner he had to go to that evening.
the text woke you up at six in the morning on a saturday, not making a great start to a day full of nerves. ever since that text, he’d been more irritable and annoyed than the usual. he didn’t finish his morning coffee, he got splashed with rainwater by a car while on his run, everything was wrong.
everything was wrong.
you left the stage of your relationship where you were afraid of making each other mad long behind you, and yet you were kinda afraid to ask for the basic things that day. like, what did his mother text him? why did it annoy him that much?
you didn’t know that at the time, but what woke him up wasn’t a text, it was a burning feeling under his band aid. he lifted it, noticing you were still sound asleep and looked at the writing. nothing had changed, but it was burning hot, and didn’t allow him to stay asleep.
“what the hell?” he mumbled, rubbing the skin, as if that was supposed to help, but there was no result.
“mm?” you mumbled, asleep, and he just glued it back on and laid down next to you again.
“nothing, don’t worry about it.”
nothing, don’t worry about it was a phrase he overused. not that he wasn’t comfortable with you, no, it was the complete opposite, but as he was raised in a very traditional way, some things were just meant to remain a secret.
it was a sort of protection he’d give you, protecting you from his dark thoughts, his mind that often didn’t listen to his commands, from himself, putting it short.
little did he know, all you ever wanted was to see those parts of him that he kept caged from you.
that was the one difference between the two of you that nothing could get over, but, even in a puzzle, elements have to be different in order to fit, right?
right.
you called yourself stupid as you recalled that now.
turns out you would fit, just… not together. but why would someone be so perfect for you, why would your heart jump out of your chest every time you saw him, if it wasn’t meant to be? why did it feel so right if it just wasn’t?
as simple as that. he wasn’t your soulmate, after all.
that night, you got into a fight. you finally told him how many fucks you give about him wanting to protect you, how secretive he is, how dumb and idiotic, and weak it makes you feel. how you hated it.
you glanced at the delicate ring placed on your finger, and sadly didn’t recall the moment he’d put it there with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, but the moment you almost took it off the other night, driven by emotions and stupid, selfish motives.
if only you knew then… if only.
you wouldn’t say “do i even truly matter to you, kiyoomi?” you wouldn’t laugh sarcastically, you wouldn’t stare at him as if he was the worst person on earth. you wouldn’t make him feel so worthless and so pathethic.
“of course you do. that’s why i don’t want to get into it, what’s so hard to understand about that? why is so hard for you to accept, that i may just have things that i’m not gonna share with you? where is that privacy and respect you so like to talk about, huh?”
“kiyoomi, respect for privacy is one thing, you’re just isolating yourself from me! what, did you get bored of me? did you realize i’m not fit for your fantasies anymore? is that it?” you did know you shouldn’t have said that in the first place, you knew you did it purposely and only to hurt him, but emotions have taken over your brain completely.
“what the fuck! i know you’re just trying to make me more mad so i say something i regret, don’t think i didn’t catch up with your sick methods already, mrs smart!” he turned around to face you, a heartbroken look in his eyes, as if the trust he had for you was disappearing by the second. instant regret hit you, but that was just the deal between you two, nobody knew when to zip it and back off.
“oh so i’m suddenly so bad, huh? so hard to deal with, is that so?”
his face went all white, blood rushing away as he heard those words.
“that’s right. i heard you talking with atsumu.”
“hey no, you’re taking it out of context, i would never mean it like that and you know it damn well”
“do i? do i know it damn well, kiyoomi? or do i just try to believe in something about you that just isn’t quite there?” tears appeared in the corners of your eyes as you realized it wasn’t about the text anymore.
“no. no, no, no, no, don’t go there. you need to calm down, you’re being ridiculous!”
“iam being ridiculous? I AM being ridiculous? you’re the one that makes me hate you right now!” you shouted, as you turned around, grabbed your keys and phone and left the apartment.
it’s fine, he told himself, you just went over to the bathroom like you always do, but minutes and hours flew by and he realized you truly… left? he searched everywhere, and you just weren’t there. he began to panic.
especially with his tattoo burning it’s way into his skin even more.
it doesn’t matter where you went, it doesn’t matter for how long. what matters is when your phone finally rang from someone else than sakusa kiyoomi and you picked up, it was the worst possible call you ever got.
he was at the hospital.
car accident.
drunk driver.
it was so obvious, it was so basic, it was so… idiotically predictable.
you obviously rushed there, obviously with fear at heart, but you didn’t fear him leaving you forever. he didn’t say his “and one day more” yet, right? he couldn’t go.
you checked every document, talked with every doctor, with every relative already present, even dealth with his hell sent mother and overprotective sister, and dismissed every single bad news, every single “he might not make it”, every “i don’t know wether he’ll wake up, it would be a miracle.”
and when you entered the room, he did look as if he was he was one foot in his grave already. you were careful to reach out to to his forehead over all the little cables and tubes, and get his annoyingly curly locks out of his eyes.
“why did you follow me, dumbass?” you whispered, eyes set on his closed lids. “you know i’ll always come back to you. i love you too much to leave, you know that, right? you’re aware? why did you do such a dumb thing? you’re smarter than this! we’re smarter than this!” you whined and whined, but to no response.
his mother gently informed you that it might be time to say goodbye, but you didn’t listen, you didn’t care. it wasn’t the day he’d die.
you stayed in his room alone for a little while, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb, mentally apologizing for being so, so difficult, and stubborn, and— and stupid!
you didn’t know what it meant when all the devices started beeping suddenly, you had no idea.
but even you would recognize that line that was supposed to jump at the speed of his heart rate going straight. you’d recognize that awful beep. that deadly calm on his face.
“hey. hey, hey, hey!” you started shouting. “don’t you dare leave me yet, you idiot! we still have so much to do together, no, no, no start working! start fucking working!” you screamed at his still heart, looking at the dark screen.
“no. no no no no no, i refuse, i won’t let you do me like that, sakusa, you hear me? you’re not allowed to—” you began panicking as you shook your fiance’s body desperately, barely managing to even move him a bit.
“wake up, you idiot, wake up!” was the last thing you said before your words started blurring together and becoming an incoherrent mess, before the doctors got into the room, before some nurse escorted you out.
that was the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend.
and now you were supposed to be getting ready for the ceremony, you were supposed to act like the composed, grieving partner, his never-to-be spouse, picture perfect form of sadness, yet you couldn’t pick yourself up from the floor, where you were sobbing in the material of the damn jersey, ironically, cause he’d be so mad for it, if only he was there.
honestly, anything would be better. any screams, silent treatment, any fight, any tears, anything. would be better than this.
because not only were you incapable of picking yourself back up after loosing your only love, you were also painfully reminded that this man, the man that meant the whole universe to you, he wasn’t your soulmate. he was never in the plan for you. and you were so mad, at whoever was up there, at fate, at god, at whatever, you couldn’t believe it, you felt like a glitch in a system.
he had to be your soulmate.
and yet the last words you heard and are ever gonna hear from him were “you’re being ridiculous”.
as you tried to get up from the floor, hands clenching around the material, you realized you have no idea what time it is.
you had no idea where your phone was, at that. you didn’t check it in over three days, you didn’t have the nerves to read all the “oh my god, are you okay? i’m so sorry for your loss”bullshit.
they would never understand “your loss”.
so as you finally found it somewhere in your purse, it was all out of battery. it took a while to charge it, and after you realized how little time you have until the funeral begins, you received a ton of messages all at ones, just as predicted.
you didn’t mean to go through them, you truly weren’t in the place to do so. but there was a chat that was always pinned at the top of the list.
your eyes widened.
1 new message from:
omi <3
your fingers and breath both shook endlessly as you pressed the highlighted font, eyes watering finally when you realized,
it was a voice message.
it took a while before you pressed it open.
sounds of traffic were heard, as if someone was calling you from inside a car. “hey there, smiles, it’s me, your favorite douchebag of a boyfriend! no, without all the jokes, we all acted on impulse, didn’t we? i’m sorry for all i said. you know i am. just let me explain it to you in person, okay? i’m driving around here, but you’re nowhere to be found, and your friends don’t know anything about where you are, neither does atsumu. you can be mad at me all you want, but please come home, okay? it’s getting late. we can fight but i won’t stop worrying about you ever, i won’t ever stop caring. please, baby, please tell me where you are? you’re not picking up, so that’s why i’m leaving you a voice message…”
your heart was beating like crazy as you listened to your boyfriend’s voice, realizing this will be the last thing you’ll ever hear him say.
“… anything is better than not knowing if you’re okay, y/n, any screaming and yelling you have planned for me, truly. i didn’t mean what i said, and neither did you. but i do mean that i will really try to be more open with you, if that’s what you want. i’ll try to make up for every mistake i’ll ever make. and remember, i’ll love you
for eternity, and one day more”
after that, his speech was interrupted by a loud noise, him saying “what the fuck” and some sounds of metal being smashed. and after that, there was a whole minute of silence.
a scream left your throat as you realized,
he was your soulmate, after all,
but you lost him forever.
*
after you finally made it to the funeral, greeted by your friend and hugged tightly by sakusa’s sister, coldly glanced by his mother, you realized, the cascet was open.
why the fuck. would they leave it. open?
“hey, sakusa-san?” you asked your fiance’s sister, and she turned around with a tired smile.
“please honey, call me by my first name” she said gently, playing with your shirt, as if she had to do something with her hands.
maybe it ran in the family.
“why did they… why did they leave it like that?” you pointed towards where your boyfriend surely was, and her smile disappeared suddenly.
“mother wanted it like that, honey. do you want me to help you go see him?” she grabbed your hand tightly and smiled, as much as she could, and when you nodded, she leaded the way.
it was hard. it was very fucking hard. you wanted to run, you wanted to disappear, to not be there anymore. he looked as if he was sleeping. as if he was going to wake up any moment. you swore his eyelid twitched at one time.
maybe you needed to do something with your hands too, because you noticed something wrong about his suit.
“who the hell made that?” you asked while reaching over to his hand.
“who do you think?” the woman sighed, pointing towards her mother.
“he has his sleeves uneven. he’d hate that” you chuckled under your breath, adjusting said sleeves, when suddenly, your fingers grazed over the black ink on his writs. you looked, even though you knew you shouldn’t.
wake up, you idiot! said the writing. you let out a breathy sigh as you reached over to your purse, and glued one last “frozen” themed band aid over the tattoo.
after breaking up with them because they’re too busy….part 2
featuring : daichi, sakusa, matsukawa, oikawa
includes : angst
notes : made this at 1 am bcs angst puts me to sleep (?) and im also gonna clear my drafts tomorrow let’s hope so reblogs are appreciated!!
daichi starts to miss his meals. he keeps being reminded of how you would come during his lunch hours with his forgotten lunch at home and how he always waves you off to do more work. he’s reminded of the number of times he’s stood you up for dinner and leaves before breakfast even comes around the next day. he’s reminded of how hurt you looked when he pushes you away, until you eventually do go away.
sakusa starts to drink. the thought of the arguments he’s had with you starts to fill his mind after you left and he can’t seem to stop thinking those— so he tries to forget. he tries to forget the unbearable pain he feels when he remembers the horrible things he’s said about you being needy, clingy and ruining his schedule. he tries to forget the hurt on your face the more he talked, tries to forget how done you were with him and tries to forget how you threw your engagement ring right at his face the night you left and never came back again.
matsukawastarts to drive around your neighbourhood. he’s not obsessive or anything— its just become a habit the time you’ve been together. he thinks if he drives down your doorstep, you’ll come running down and make up like you always do. that doesn’t happen though. he thinks you need time, but days turn into weeks until he realizes you’re not even looking for him anymore and that you were serious about breaking up. what hurts the most is when he finally sees your silhouette at the balcony, you’re already with someone new.
oikawa starts to miss your notifications. if he could take back one thing, it would be calling your presence a nuisance. he wished he could’ve seen that you checking up on him when he hasn’t come home was you caring for him. that when you called him up to ask what he was doing, it was you trying to spend more time with him and when you brought up how he was neglecting you, it was a way to tell him how you were feeling and trying to communicate with him. he hates when his phone rings, he’s hoping it’s you. hoping it’s one of your texts reminding him to have a good day, or telling him about what you did today. he hates that there’s not even one notification from you now and he hates how empty he feels without you.
warnings: swearing, suggestive content (17+), college drinking, college partying, breakdown
genre: fluff (?), angst, best friends, aged up characters
word count: ~2k words
a/n:hello friends!! enjoy this glimpse into what’s going on in my life through fanfiction bc writing is how i cope :) im glad to be writing for the first time in forever ! [btw, yes, this is about the boy i was talking about on here <3 ] pls reblog and enjoy xx
“hey… you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.”
you nudged his shoulder, hoping to wake him up. he let out a small groan, causing you to chuckle. the soft music echoed throughout your dorm room, only he was too tired to notice. you patted him again. instead of getting up, he moved closer to you and rested his head in your lap.
you didn’t expect to be spending your friday night like this. you didn’t think your friday night would lead to this. yet, it did.
it started out as every innocent weekend does. you were just looking to have a good time. one of your good friends, bokuto kotaro, always seemed to have something going on in his room, so you decided to go there.
however, you didn’t go alone.
you went with your best friend.
oikawa tooru.
you first went to his room. oikawa opened the door with a dashing smile as he always did and let you inside. he handed you a water bottle.
“i already made you your mix,” he said.
“what a good friend you are.”
“the best, i know.”
the two of you made your way to bokuto’s dorm, already feeling the affects of your drink. you could hear the music from down the hall.
“yooo! we got y/n and tooru here!” shouted kuroo, bokuto’s roommate. you laughed and joined in on the fun.
you liked these little dorm parties. they were harmless. just a group of friends getting together. however, every time you went to one of those dorm parties, there seemed to be something in the air.
“take a shot y/n!” insisted makki. you smiled, taking the small glass and downing it.
“that’s my girl!” said oikawa, causing your face to grow warm.
“hey now you gotta take one,” you teased. oikawa smirked, pouring himself a shot and taking it as if it were water.
as the night progressed and people began to reach their limits, you found yourself snuggled up on a bean bag with your best friend.
your best friend whom you’ve liked since the day you met him.
you stared up at the ceiling, watching the l.e.d lights above you blur onto one color. you looked over your shoulder at oikawa, who was on the brink of passing out. you patted his chest.
“don’t fall asleep.”
oikawa opened his eyes and chuckled.
“im wide awake.”
you could finally feel some clarity as the alcohol was wearing off. you looked around the darkened room as your friends held back each other’s hair and people were passed out on the futon. you looked at oikawa.
“we should go.”
you wobbled your way to the elevator, holding oikawa’s hand as you went in. he was practically begging for your attention. you clicked the button back to your floor, where he also lived.
you couldn’t just leave him like this. his roommate wouldn’t help him and you knew he’d be a wreck all alone. so, you led him to your room instead.
your roommate went home every weekend. you honestly liked having the room to yourself. it made situations like this easier.
and that led you to where you were now. sitting on your bedroom floor as he slept besides you. his soft breathing tickled your thighs. you ran your fingers through his brown hair, something you never thought would happen out of a platonic context. was all this platonic? you didn’t know. you soon would.
tooru shifted closer to you, nestling into your lap. you felt his hands snake under your shorts as he played with your underwear. you sighed.
the two of you laid there for hours it seemed. he was fast asleep while you pondered what was happening. he had to have known what he was doing.
suddenly, tooru got up and stretched out his arms. you looked at him with widened eyes. he yawned.
“your bed is probably way more comfortable than the floor.”
oikawa made his way to your bed, climbing up and getting under the covers as if he owned it. you took a deep breath and got into bed with him.
“hey,”you whispered. oikawa looked at you and gave you a tired smile.
“hey pretty girl.”
you felt your stomach clench at his words. why did he have to say that. you gulped.
“tooru i…i like you,” you whispered. oikawa sat up, placing his hand on your cheek.
“really?”
“yes really. i like you,” you admitted. oikawa leaned in a bit closer to you, making your heart flutter.
“okay.”
oikawa pulled you towards him into a kiss. you had been waiting for this moment, so what else were you to do but kiss him back. kiss him like your life depended on it. you kissed him and everything felt perfect. like this was how things were supposed to be.
you stared into his eyes. his eyes that seem to encapsulate every reason why you liked him so much. so much more than just as your best friend. you memorized every sound he made and how he made you feel. you memorized every word he said and how you believed them to be true. as you dug your nails into his soft skin, you couldn’t help but realize how beautiful he was. you wondered if he thought you were beautiful in this moment too.
you pulled the covers over your bare body and snuggled into his chest. as the two of you caught your breath and he turned off the lights, you thought what could happen next. what will come of this night? certainly you couldn’t stay best friends now. there was something there. there had to be something between you two, or so you hoped.
~
you asked to talk to him. he asked why. you said you just thought it was best to speak in person. he said okay.
you made your way to his room, just as you had a million times before. why was this time different?
“hey,” he said. you smiled, letting yourself in. you sat down on his couch, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater.
“so what’s up?”
you took a deep breath.
“i just wanted to talk and see where your head is at since…um…these last two weeks have been kinda weird,” you explained. oikawa chuckled.
“i kinda figured that’s what you wanted to talk about.”
two weeks. this has been going on for two weeks. staying in his room, sending flirty texts, confessing how much you missed him when he would leave. and he played along. for two weeks.
“look, y/n, i like you and you’re one hundred percent my type,” he began, “but, im just not in the place for a relationship right now. i think we should just stay friends. but hey, if anything happens in the future that’s cool too.”
you nodded at every word he said, even though it went in one ear and out the other. once you finally realized what he had said, you felt your heart crack.
but you couldn’t let him know that.
“right. that’s for the best.”
oikawa smiled and patted you on the back.
“i knew you’d understand. wanna watch a movie?”
~
it was another friday night, except this time you were alone. you laid in your bed, alone. he was just down the hall. you could go and see him. you missed him, and he was only a couple hundred feet away. what you wanted was for him to just hold you. not platonically.
you got up from your bed and walked over to his room. it was normal for you to come over unannounced. you were best friends after all.
you gave his door your signature knock and waited for his response.
“oh hey,” he smiled.
“can i come in?”
“of course”
as the credits of the movies rolled, you couldn’t help but look over at tooru every few seconds just to check if he was looking at you too.
he was.
oikawa moved closer to you on the couch, wrapping his arm around you. you slowly made eye contact with him and as he shot you that look, you knew what was happening next.
his lips felt like a cloud, his kisses a dream. everytime you tried to back away, he drew you back in. he was always drawing you back in.
“w-wait-“ you insisted. oikawa gave you a confused look.
“everything okay?”
“tooru…i thought you wanted to be just friends.”
“i do.”
“then why are we doing this?”
oikawa scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously.
“come on y/n…all this is just friendly.”
you felt your heart crack again.
“what?”
oikawa gave you a pat on the back.
“it’s just platonic.”
you stared at him for at least two minutes. blank expression. you got up from the couch and began to pace back and forth.
“uh y/n-“
“so you like me, but not enough to date me, and you think everything we’ve been doing has just been out of friendship?” you shouted. tooru’s face was now blank.
“look y/n-“
“you have been toying with me for weeks, tooru! and i let you! you know why?”
“w-why-“
“because im fucking in love with you! oh my god tooru im in love with you and you treat me like shit!” you screamed. your anger turned to sadness as you felt tears roll down your cheek. oikawa got up and stood in front of you.
“y/n you have to know i never meant to hurt you. i just wasn’t thinking and i didn’t expect this to happen the way it did…like i didn’t even know you liked me-“
“how! how did you not know? i even told you!”
“well i didn’t think you were so serious…”
you looked into those dark brown eyes, something you used to love to do. now, you looked into his eyes and saw yourself. a crying mess in front of him.
“why don’t you love me?” you pleaded. oikawa sighed.
“you know i care about you y/n. you’re my best friend and i can’t lose you. but i just can’t give you what you want. i’m sorry.”
your heart finally broke.
he wasn’t sorry. you didn’t believe him. you wanted him to lie. fake being in love with you because you were so in love with him. so in love it drove you insane.
“im gonna go.”
“y/n don’t go-“
“tooru, i need a minute. please.”
oikawa grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. your red eyes stared him down.
“come in y/n. you’re my best friend. you can’t be mad at me, right?”
you trembled in his grasp. you couldn’t stop crying. you felt like a fool.
“no, i can’t. unfortunately im too in love with you to hate you.”
you broke away from tooru and walked out the door.
~
it was excruciating.
the pain.
you didn’t even date him. why on earth did it hurt so bad? it was so much worse than anything you had felt before.
you gripped into your pillow, sobbing until the fabric would change color. before, when you were sad, you would go to tooru. now, he was the reason why you were sad. so you had no where to go. you couldn’t avoid him. after all, he lived just a few doors down and he still technically was your best friend. you had no choice but to fake it. fake that you were fine when he asked to study or grab lunch. fake this feeling of happiness to mask your heartbreak. all for him.
everything that happened was meaningless.
it was meaningless in the way you wanted it to be. it meant everything to you and nothing to him.
gn reader | arranged marriage au | angst to fluff | warnings: divorce mention, alcohol, abusive parents, arguing
your marriage to kiyoomi was not what you imagined it would be. he hated you and you didn’t know why. with your hopes of a happy marriage dashed, you decided to leave him after just one year. the divorce papers were drawn and your bags were packed, but what he reveals makes you reconsider.
part one|part two | wc: 3.6k | gn reader | arranged marriage au | fluff & angst | warnings:physical/emotional abuse from parents, manipulation, intoxication.
it was almost startling how much things had changed since that confrontation three months ago. you truly meant it when you said it would be a fresh start and kiyoomi was grateful. he did his best, albeit awkwardly, to make amends for how he treated you in the past.
‘platonic marriage’ or rather, being friends with you wasn’t difficult at all, it came almost as effortlessly to him as playing volleyball. though it quickly became clear that he knew almost nothing about you, once you told him something he made sure to never forget it.
it wasn’t enough for you to not hate him, kiyoomi wanted you to like him for who he was. he had always wondered what that felt like.
kiyoomi wasn’t sure when exactly he started considering the penthouse to be home. he used to think of it as a prison, yet before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to returning to whatever you were making for dinner and the questionable music you were blasting on the speakers. he’d tell you all about his day and you did the same. he didn’t rush off to practice first thing in the morning anymore. instead, kiyoomi made breakfast for you both.
you’d tell him his green smoothies were disgusting and he’d tell you to stop drinking coffee, but he still made sure that a cup was ready for you— exactly how you like it— before he went for a run. there were many moments like that, where kiyoomi caught himself forgetting all about your circumstances. it was nice. being with you was nice, he thought.
and he wasn’t sure what came over him three weeks ago when he’d called your mother and asked her to send your belongings from your old apartment to the penthouse. your mother had been pleasantly surprised and agreed happily, even keeping him on the phone for another 45 minutes to chat. he didn’t even speak to his own parents for that long, not about anything good. he thought that was nice too.
“what’s all this?” you stared down at the boxes when they arrived.
kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck. “well, i asked your mom to send the stuff from your old place.”
you blinked at him, clearly surprised.
“kiyoomi… i- that’s so nice of you. thank you,” you murmured.
“you live here too so… ugh it’s really not a big deal. just don’t make a mess when you put it all away, y/n.”
he had been so flustered that he walked away, completely missing the fond look on your face. why had he been embarrassed after simply doing a friendly gesture? it was the fair thing to do after all. it wasn’t like he wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by your things. or what they would look like next to his own.
“was that y/n in the stands?” atsumu, his teammate, jogged up beside him on their way to the locker room. “didn’t think i’d ever see them again.”
“i’m surprised you had time to look in the stands at all with how much you were running your mouth at our opponents,” kiyoomi replied.
“well actually~ i only noticed because i saw how you kept looking at them all night.”
kiyoomi let out a disinterested hum, ending the conversation before atsumu could pry any further. despite the teams overwhelming victory that night, kiyoomi had been on edge. just knowing that you were there had him feeling nervous on the court for the first time in years. he thought he had been more subtle about it.
kiyoomi had never been one to talk about his private affairs. all the team knew was that he had gotten married and he refused to say any more about it. they had all seen you only once before over a year ago when you attended a game with his siblings but kiyoomi didn’t introduce you. the team hadn’t even been invited to the wedding. back then, the whole arrangement only made kiyoomi resentful and he refused to talk about you, desperately wanting to keep his volleyball life separate. even though things between you two were better, he never bothered explaining it to anyone, sparing himself the headache from their endless questions.
would there even be any point in telling them? neither you nor kiyoomi knew where things would eventually lead. he still wasn’t sure about your reason for staying. did you plan on only staying for the remainder of his career? you could have left him and moved on with your life but you stayed because you probably felt sorry for him. surely you’d get tired of it eventually, right? the thought of you deciding to leave made his stomach sink. not that he would have any right to be upset if you did.
you deserved better, but he hoped you didn’t care anyway.
kiyoomi took longer than usual in the showers, trying to alleviate his nerves. the night wasn’t over for him yet, unfortunately. when he finally emerged from the locker room, he spotted you among the families and friends of the team. but much to his dismay, you were in the midst of a conversation with atsumu, who seemed to be getting a little too familiar with you.
“omi-omi!” atsumu noticed him approaching.
kiyoomi frowned as he came to a stop in front of you both.
“i was introducing myself properly to y/n. we hadn’t officially met yet thanks to someone… i was just saying how i’ve heard so much about them!”
“you haven’t,” kiyoomi’s eyes narrowed at the arm atsumu had draped around your shoulders.
atsumu grinned down at you and pointed to his teammate. “see what i have to deal with, y/n? i can never catch a break.”
"why do i get the feeling that it’s the opposite?” you joked.
something bitter swelled in kiyoomi’s throat as he watched your exchange. not that long ago, he wouldn’t have cared less about who touched you. but now, it felt strange… and wrong.
the setter reared back, feigning hurt at your words. "so that’s how it is, huh? omi, what did you tell them about me?”
“only the truth.” kiyoomi grunted before turning to you. “we have to do some interviews but it shouldn’t take long. will you be alright here?”
“yeah, i’ll be fine.” you smiled up at him. “and great job out there tonight, kiyoomi.”
a blush threatened to crawl up his neck. he would blame it on his exhaustion if you noticed. “thank you.”
now beside him, atsumu let out an exaggerated sigh. “what about me, y/n? those were my amazing sets after all.”
you playfully rolled your eyes. “i guess you were amazing out there too, miya.”
kiyoomi’s jaw ticked. amazing? seriously?
“ah, don’t be so formal! call me atsu—”
“let’s go.” kiyoomi interjected, his tone sharper than necessary.
you waved them off. “i’ll see you in a bit!”
as the two players made their way down the corridor, atsumu noticed kiyoomi’s slightly reddened face. a devilish grin spread across his lips before he nudged his grumpy teammate and turned back to you.
“y/n! make sure you come to lots of games so omi-omi can do his best for you!”
the post-victory high kiyoomi felt slowly drained from his body as he pulled into the parking lot of an extravagant restaurant. after months of excuses, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. that night you both had plans to meet his parents for dinner. unsurprisingly, they had opted not to attend his game earlier.
kiyoomi thought he did a good job of disguising his discomfort, but you quickly sensed his shift in mood. before walking inside, you gently tugged on the sleeve of his coat to bring him to a stop. he looked down at you and was almost taken aback by the concern on your face.
“kiyoomi, are you alright? we can just go home if you’re not up for this tonight.”
in that moment, kiyoomi knew that he never wanted you to leave him. the feelings he had been trying to ignore for months threatened to spill out. he couldn’t put into words how you made him feel. it was almost too much, but he didn’t want to lose it. maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you, but how could he after everything? he remembered the divorce papers you had drawn up, tucked away somewhere in the penthouse.
you had seen him at his cruelest, he almost drove you away in tears, and you were about to face the people that had manipulated him into your marriage in the first place. he couldn’t possibly ask any more of you. maybe things would have been different if he had given your marriage a chance, but he couldn’t think about that anymore.
kiyoomi took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, already feeling a little bit better.
“i’m fine. let’s just get this over with.“
you nodded warily.
he was grateful when you didn’t press him further. he was even more grateful when you didn’t ask why he still hadn’t let go of your hand.
it didn’t take long for kiyoomi to regret not taking you up on your offer to go home. things had begun decent enough, with the conversation flowing easily despite the tension. his father said very little as usual, busy checking business emails on his phone and nursing a glass of scotch. kiyoomi knew he should have seen it coming and cursed himself for thinking the night might end without any problems.
it all started while you were telling them about how well he had played earlier. kiyoomi smiled shyly as you recapped some of his plays, trying not to let his pride swell at your words. for a moment, he was so happy he almost forgot where he was, but his mother made sure to remind him.
"so kiyoomi,” she began, shamelessly interrupting you. “how long will you be doing that for?”
there was an awkward drawn-out silence before he replied, “what do you mean?”
“volleyball.” she said as if it were obvious. “your father and i were discussing it a while ago and we were thinking we should start considering your other options.”
kiyoomi visibly tensed at her words. next to him, you were rendered speechless, the shock on your face clear as day. kiyoomi himself wasn’t surprised in the least, but you had never seen this side of his mother before. until then, she had been almost sickeningly sweet to you. but after what kiyoomi had revealed, you were able to recognize that it had all been an act. to her, you were simply a means to an end.
“volleyball is my future, so i’m not sure what you’re getting at.” kiyoomi ground out, trying his best to keep his tone even.
his mother sighed. “be realistic, boy. you’re almost thirty now and most players retire before thirty-five with nothing else to fall back on. sure, you’ve found a little success but then what? a volleyball salary isn’t going to cut it forever. you should put that degree of yours to use sooner than later and do something meaningful with your life like your siblings.”
her every word felt like a weight on kiyoomi’s chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.
“i’ve let you carry on with this far too long. i thought that getting married would set your priorities straight but i see that it hasn’t,” she gave you a quick, disapproving glance. “i’m not asking you to retire today, but i’ll need you to start meeting with your father twice a week to learn the business and then—”
“and then what?”hespat.“i’ll do as you say, and then you’ll just find some other part of my life to manipulate? until i’m good enough?”
as he stared into his mother’s eyes, kiyoomi saw nothing. her face conveyed neither concern nor guilt. she only stared back at him as if he were nothing but a stranger speaking to her about the weather. it didn’t matter what he did, kiyoomi realized. she would never be proud of him for who he was. she would never see him as her son who worked hard his whole life to achieve his dreams. try as he might, kiyoomi couldn’t allow himself to ignore the reality of the situation any longer. to her, he was still a mistake that needed to be corrected.
“i know you never wanted me. so just do us both a favor and forget that i exist.”
for over an hour, you drove up and down every street surrounding the restaurant searching for kiyoomi before deciding to return to the penthouse. it was your last hope since you had no way of reaching him. in his rush to leave, kiyoomi had left behind his jacket containing his phone and car keys. you were so worried that you even called his cousin, komori, and begged him to tell you if he heard from kiyoomi.
you didn’t mean to cry, but the adrenaline from your outrage had worn off and you didn’t know what to do. you regretted not immediately going after him. instead, back at the restaurant, your feet had been planted in front of the table as you glowered at his mother.
“what is wrong with you? he’s your son!”
unaffected by your words, she raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“darling, don’t overstep.”
you were losing your composure.“you have no right to—”
“oh! i see what this is. have you deluded yourself into thinking he’d love you? you poor thing. the reality is that kiyoomi has always been a selfish little boy. as long as he can play that little game- he’ll use you until he has nothing left to gain from it.”
her words stung but you refused to give her the reaction she wanted.
“you should be more appreciative. i put you where you are, you would do well to remember that, y/n.”
not giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you swiftly lifted a wine glass off the table and threw its contents in her face.
under different circumstances, the way her expression became deadly in a mere second might have chilled you to the bone.
“you’re a pathetic excuse for a mother. i almost feel sorry for you.”
her tirade of insults sounded throughout the restaurant as you made your exit. you didn’t bother to listen, the only thing on your mind was getting to kiyoomi.
when you finally arrived back home, you were relieved to find his oxfords carelessly discarded in the entryway.
“kiyoomi?”
after no response, you began making your way through each room, cursing how needlessly big the penthouse was. when he wasn’t in the kitchen, master bedroom, or even his training room, you started to panic. had he gone back out before you arrived? as you raced back toward the elevator, you noticed a light down the hall. there was only one other room you hadn’t checked.
after clearing the air months ago, you moved into the guest room, feeling slightly awkward about continuing to share a room with kiyoomi. he was hesitant about your decision and insisted that you take the larger room but you refused. if you were being honest, a large part of you didn’t want to stay in that room because it would only remind you of what never was. you needed the distance.
to your surprise, kiyoomi was splayed across your bed on his back, polishing off a bottle of liquor you suspected was from your old stash. he looked a mess. his previously styled hair was in disarray, shirt untucked from his slacks, and his tie almost completely undone around his neck.
you let out a sigh of relief. “thank god you’re okay,”
he said nothing as you made your way inside and sat down. his eyes remained fixated on the ceiling.
“you know, i think we should consider getting a smaller place.” you tried to joke.
kiyoomi looked over at you then, his eyes softening briefly before he turned away again.
“i’m sorry for leaving you at the restaurant,” he said slowly.
“it’s okay. i was really worried about you.”
“i didn’t mean to… what happened was—”
“you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” you stopped him as he struggled with his words.
there was so much you wanted to ask him. why was his mother so cold to him? what did he mean when he said that she didn’t want him? and what would she do now that he didn’t want anything to do with her? did he mean what he said? but it wasn’t the time for any of that. you were just glad he was home.
neither of you said anything for a long time but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable like it used to be. it was almost peaceful. as if both of you understood that proximity was enough. you wondered if it would remain that way for the rest of the night before kiyoomi spoke again.
“my mother… she used to always tell me that i was lucky to even be born. my parents didn’t want any more kids but then i came along. i was nothing like my siblings. i tried to be for a long time. but when i decided that i wanted to pursue volleyball, everything got worse. i told my mother and she slapped me right across the face. it was like i had betrayed them. they were so angry at me and i couldn’t understand why. i loved volleyball instead of what they chose for me. was that so bad? for them to do all this? to hate me?
"i thought that i had finally convinced them that they could be proud of me when i went pro but of course they weren’t.” he chuckled bitterly. “when i got silver at the olympics, it was like that was the last straw for them. they married me off and put me in this penthouse so i could at least keep up the appearance of a responsible and successful son. what a joke.”
horrified at his words, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. you knew the last thing kiyoomi wanted was for you to feel sorry for him. but you didn’t feel sorry for him, you loved him. you loved him and hated everything he had gone through with his family.
though you tried to get rid of any lingering feelings for him over the past few months, they only returned a little more every day. with each meal you shared and every little moment together, it was easy to forget it all. but you were only there to help him now, nothing more. you knew he didn’t want more and it was painful. some days the reality of your situation hurt so much you wondered if you should have left after all… but you knew that you would have regretted that even more.
noticing your watery eyes, kiyoomi sat up. “hey, what’s wrong?”
“nothing, i’m fine,” you squeezed your eyes shut, accidentally letting a few tears escape. “shit. sorry. i’m just—”
your eyes shot open when you felt two large hands on either side of your face. kiyoomi was looking back at you with glazed, almost pained eyes. “i wish you didn’t have to see that. don’t cry for me or my family. it’s not worth it, y/n.”
“you are though.” you held his gaze even as more tears fell. “we’re in this together remember? i’m glad i was there with you. and i’m glad you can talk to me about it. i don’t want you to have to keep it all in all the time. i care about you… so much.”
kiyoomi’s eyes seemed to intensify and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it just as fast. suddenly, his face was inching closer to yours. you froze. was he going to…?
your panic quickly subsided when kiyoomi’s hands fell from your face and his body slumped against yours, his face landing right against your chest.
“k-kiyoomi?” you spluttered, quickly gripping his shoulders to keep him from completely falling onto you.
he groaned but still didn’t move. “fuck, my head…sorry…i’m slightly more inebriated than i thought.”
you exhaled slowly, unsure if you were more relieved or disappointed. but you were glad you hadn’t said too much at least. when kiyoomi started feeling heavier, you carefully slid off the bed and helped him lay down properly.
“alright stay here, drunky, i’ll be right back. and don’t fall asleep.”
you returned from the kitchen a moment later and made him drink an entire bottle of water. “lay on your side in case you puke later.”
“i never puke, that’s gross.” he giggled. the liquor had clearly caught up with him by then. you briefly wished you were devious enough to record him in his current state.
kiyoomi was softly snoring almost immediately after his head met your pillows. you couldn’t help but smile down at him and before you could stop yourself, your hand made its way to his face, softly wiping at the dried tear stains on his cheek. he had been crying before you found him.
“it’ll all be okay, kiyoomi. i promise.” your fingers were in his hair now, gently carding through his curls.
“…imnahgonna…”you froze when he began to stir, but he remained asleep, even letting out a content sigh when you resumed.
after twenty minutes, you were sure he was out for the night and wouldn’t need any more help. carefully, you draped a blanket over him and got up to exit the room.
as you opened the door, kiyoomi began mumbling again but his words came out clearer.
“…i know i’m not good enough…” he slurred. “…but i don’t want them to leave me…”
confused at his words, you paused. you wondered if he was referring to his parents.
“who?”
“y….y/n…”
he was talking about you? leaving?
“kiyoomi, i don’t understand,” you said softly. “do you need more wat-”
“…i know it’s too late…
but i love them…”
A/N: uhh this wasn’t supposed to be over 3k words and i have no self-control i’m sorry (;﹏;) but i didn’t take two months to finish a part this time!! i really struggled with this part though because i wanted to include how y/n and kiyoomi adapted to their new arrangement, kiyoomi’s complicated feelings for y/n, introduce his parents, and set them up for the ending without rushing everything. i already have a bonus chapter in my drafts and part four isn’t even started yet yikes…
you had taken a different route to work today. you’d overslept, but it was supposedly okay because you were taking an off tomorrow anyway. your parents were coming to your apartment to visit you, because you’d moved to a different part of tokyo as soon as you’d gotten your job. you check your watch as you fasten your speed. and as your eyes look up again, they glance over a little sign on the window of the restaurant you pass by. you keep walking, but as soon as the information processes in your mind, you stop. and then your feet make a one-eighty degree turn on their own, walking back towards the sign. your eyes widen as you stand on the pavement, the board above the restaurant making your heart jump out of your chest.
onigiri miya.
“miya?” you murmur, blinking profusely. your lips part, and you think. maybe, just maybe.
you open the door.
the bell jingles as you walk to the counter, waiting in the line to see the cashier. there’s two more people in front of you. one of them seems like an ordinary businessman. the other is an old lady, smiling as she pulls out her purse to get the exact amount of cash she needs for her order. it seems as if she’s a regular. since when was this place open, anyway?
“welcome to onigiri miya, what can i get you today?” the cashier asks. he seems like a tired college student. you ponder for a moment, looking up at the menu before you say, “i’ll have the second combo with a lemon iced tea as the drink, please.”
“that will be seven hundred yen, would you prefer cash or card?”
“erm, card please-”
“oi, takeuchi, make sure to restock the tuna in half an hour! the counter’s runnin’ out any second now- [y/n]?” and there he is. just like you suspected. miya osamu, standing in all of his glory, clad in a black baseball cap with an onigiri embroidered on it. he wears a black tee, and a black apron with the same onigiri logo. his grey eyes blink at you profusely as you give him a tight-lipped smile.
“hi, ‘samu,” you say, “h-how are you?”
“excuse me, if you could just finish paying. i’m kind of in a hurry,” the man behind you interrupts. he wears glasses and stands in a three-piece suit, and you apologize before handing your card to takeuchi, who swipes it and tells you to go to the other side of the counter where osamu assembles all the food—by himself.
“ya haven’t called in months,” he says, handing someone their order before he continues, “why’s that?”
“i got busy with work, a big project came up and i honestly lost touch with like fifty people,” you nervously chuckle, “i’m sorry.”
“don’t worry, ’s an understandable excuse,” he chuckles, “ya wanna pop in tonight after closin’ time? i usually clean the kitchen every night by myself. would be nice ta have some company every now ‘n then.”
“only if i get food,” you joke. osamu then hands you a paper bag, a tumbler and a straw. he smiles, “'course, dinner’s on me.”
your day goes by pretty smoothly. your co-workers don’t bother you when you decline going to drink with them at the end of the day—which you’re honestly glad for, because sometimes they irritate you into coming with them, only for you to have the worst hangover the next day.
and now you’re walking inside onigiri miya for the second time today, eyes brightening up as soon as they fall on osamu. he waves you over to sit on a barstool as he wipes the counter, asking you if you want anything to drink. you decline, saying you’d rather not wake up with a hangover since your parents are visiting the next morning.
“tell me, how’s tokyo been treatin’ ya?”
“ugh,” you groan, “it was hell at first. college was so lonely, half the kids knew each other because they were high-school friends. and the ones that didn’t, made their own little cliques. i felt so out of place. but i found a friend or two by the end of my first year. so everything went well after that.”
“are ya workin’ now?” he raised an eyebrow as he slid you a plate of food. you thanked him before continuing, “well, yes. it’s my first year actually working. pretty good so far, i won’t lie. the pay isn’t half-bad, either.”
“well, ’m glad yer happy,” he says, “i opened this restaurant a couple of months ago, actually. just after we stopped talkin’. guess we both got busy during the same time.”
“i guess so.”
just then, something so unexpected happens that your heart jumps out of your chest and begins flopping on the floor like a fish out of water.
the bell jingles. you and osamu look towards the door. your eyes widen. your heart pounds in your ears.
you had taken a different route to work today. you’d overslept, but it was supposedly okay because you were taking an off tomorrow anyway. your parents were coming to your apartment to visit you, because you’d moved to a different part of tokyo as soon as you’d gotten your job. you check your watch as you fasten your speed. and as your eyes look up again, they glance over a little sign on the window of the restaurant you pass by. you keep walking, but as soon as the information processes in your mind, you stop. and then your feet make a one-eighty degree turn on their own, walking back towards the sign. your eyes widen as you stand on the pavement, the board above the restaurant making your heart jump out of your chest.
onigiri miya.
“miya?” you murmur, blinking profusely. your lips part, and you think. maybe, just maybe.
you open the door.
the bell jingles as you walk to the counter, waiting in the line to see the cashier. there’s two more people in front of you. one of them seems like an ordinary businessman. the other is an old lady, smiling as she pulls out her purse to get the exact amount of cash she needs for her order. it seems as if she’s a regular. since when was this place open, anyway?
“welcome to onigiri miya, what can i get you today?” the cashier asks. he seems like a tired college student. you ponder for a moment, looking up at the menu before you say, “i’ll have the second combo with a lemon iced tea as the drink, please.”
“that will be seven hundred yen, would you prefer cash or card?”
“erm, card please-”
“oi, takeuchi, make sure to restock the tuna in half an hour! the counter’s runnin’ out any second now- [y/n]?” and there he is. just like you suspected. miya osamu, standing in all of his glory, clad in a black baseball cap with an onigiri embroidered on it. he wears a black tee, and a black apron with the same onigiri logo. his grey eyes blink at you profusely as you give him a tight-lipped smile.
“hi, ‘samu,” you say, “h-how are you?”
“excuse me, if you could just finish paying. i’m kind of in a hurry,” the man behind you interrupts. he wears glasses and stands in a three-piece suit, and you apologize before handing your card to takeuchi, who swipes it and tells you to go to the other side of the counter where osamu assembles all the food—by himself.
“ya haven’t called in months,” he says, handing someone their order before he continues, “why’s that?”
“i got busy with work, a big project came up and i honestly lost touch with like fifty people,” you nervously chuckle, “i’m sorry.”
“don’t worry, ’s an understandable excuse,” he chuckles, “ya wanna pop in tonight after closin’ time? i usually clean the kitchen every night by myself. would be nice ta have some company every now ‘n then.”
“only if i get food,” you joke. osamu then hands you a paper bag, a tumbler and a straw. he smiles, “'course, dinner’s on me.”
your day goes by pretty smoothly. your co-workers don’t bother you when you decline going to drink with them at the end of the day—which you’re honestly glad for, because sometimes they irritate you into coming with them, only for you to have the worst hangover the next day.
and now you’re walking inside onigiri miya for the second time today, eyes brightening up as soon as they fall on osamu. he waves you over to sit on a barstool as he wipes the counter, asking you if you want anything to drink. you decline, saying you’d rather not wake up with a hangover since your parents are visiting the next morning.
“tell me, how’s tokyo been treatin’ ya?”
“ugh,” you groan, “it was hell at first. college was so lonely, half the kids knew each other because they were high-school friends. and the ones that didn’t, made their own little cliques. i felt so out of place. but i found a friend or two by the end of my first year. so everything went well after that.”
“are ya workin’ now?” he raised an eyebrow as he slid you a plate of food. you thanked him before continuing, “well, yes. it’s my first year actually working. pretty good so far, i won’t lie. the pay isn’t half-bad, either.”
“well, ’m glad yer happy,” he says, “i opened this restaurant a couple of months ago, actually. just after we stopped talkin’. guess we both got busy during the same time.”
“i guess so.”
just then, something so unexpected happens that your heart jumps out of your chest and begins flopping on the floor like a fish out of water.
the bell jingles. you and osamu look towards the door. your eyes widen. your heart pounds in your ears.
“he loses his voice when he yells too much,” you mumble. the memories of you taking care of him after stupid fights making you smile—it’s a sad smile, and osamu can’t help but feel sympathetic for you. the two of you sit on a bench at the park; you’re mindlessly staring ahead of you as osamu looks at you with glassy eyes. maybe you’re looking at the playing children. or at the sun slowly beginning to set. or the little particles becoming visible by the tyndall effect. you don’t know.
“oh, and he also ends up getting sick if he stays up past two in the morning,” you chuckle now, the time when you’d called him at midnight flashing before your eyes. your boyfriend’s voice was soft that night, as he listened to you ramble and then did the same thing himself. it was around two-thirty when the two of you ended the call and went to bed, and the next day, he passed out next to you in math class.
“and whenever he walks home with me, we usually end up getting strawberry icecream or cream puffs,” your eyes blink softly, to stop the tears from flowing. you’re successful in doing so, and your mind takes you back to the time when you forced the boy into the convenience store at the end of your neighborhood. he was talking about how he needs to get home or his mother will give osamu all the soup and the fatty tuna. he stayed with you anyway, eating ice-cream from a small cup in his hands as the two of you laughed about nothing and everything at the same time.
“and he doesn’t like that onigiri you make with chicken. he hates it but he says he doesn’t wanna hurt you,” a glum blush takes over your cheeks, “he cares about you a lot, even though he doesn’t show it. but you probably know that already.”
you remember atsumu complaining about the chicken tasting weird with the rice, but he’d continued eating the snack that osamu had dropped off anyway. when you’d asked why, he’d reply with, “because ‘samu made it. fer me.”
“ya know you don’t gotta to do this, right? he’s stupid, he’ll come around eventually,” osamu croaks, his voice cracking at the end. you give the grey-haired twin a melancholic smile in return, “don’t really have a choice anymore, 'samu. my dad got a job in tokyo, and i got into the uni there. i can’t stay even if i want to.”
osamu shakes his head, tears escaping his eyes like a dam finally breaking through. he’s had enough. he can’t have his best friend leave him, and he knows it’s selfish to think that way, but he couldn’t help himself. not only were you his best friend, you were also atsumu’s everything. and you couldn’t just leave without telling him, that would be unfair on many different levels.
“he’s an idiot for sayin’ all that shit to ya, but c'mon. you can’t just leave like this without tellin’ him,” osamu reasons, “’s not fair to him. just because he hurt you, doesn’t give ya the excuse ta just up and leave like this.”
“'samu,” you whisper, “even if i tell him, it’ll be all for nothing. you know my train is tomorrow.”
“you suck, ya know that?” the boy only looms down at his lap, his voice becoming quieter. you chuckle, closing the distance between the two of you as you rest your head on his shoulder, “i love ya, though. i’ll miss ya.”
“aww,” you giggle, “you finally admit it.”
“stupid ’tsumu loves ya more,” he mumbled under his breath, “yer like a sibling to me but yer the love of his life.”
notes ; it’s been a while since i updated you guys, think of this as my check in. i hope you’re all doing well !
MATTSUNexperienced that uncomfortable feeling of dread filling his senses at around six thirty, approximately an entire hour late from your scheduled dinner date. the restaurant he picked out, the outfit you had bought specifically for this rare occasion. wasted. yet he didn’t realize until he happened to open his messages, your pinned number causing him to leap from the loveseat in terror. he messed up big time. your beautiful face crumbling with sadness sent him dizzy in distress. the frazzled man disregarding his usual belongings to run to the place, evening lights twinkling with the dimmed lighting; elevating the romantic atmosphere. “baby i’m so so-“ however, the apology was cut off when you shoved past him—soft sniffles heard. “if you have time to apologize, you surely had time to show up.” you hissed, not sparing a single glance at issei. after that, he trailed behind you on the way home—downcast. the sounds of your crying haunting him from the living room. he was giving you space, but this was killing him. “i made your favorite dish, come out so we can talk-“ once again, the words frothing in his throat dissolved upon impact. your face hidden in his t-shirt. “you jerk, don’t you ever do that again or i will not hesitate to cut off your hands and feet.” he stood in stunned silence. “alright then, am i forgiven ?” — “not a chance.”
KUROO was fully immersed in his job, and you couldn’t be happier for him. except for the portion which required him to be away for long periods of time. apparently, the at-home movie date was long forgotten. because tetsuro was a no show. the thought of calling him left your lip quivering. this could possibly be one of the only times you get to see him this week and your patience and resilience was running thin. finger pressing the call, listening to the dial tone with absolute silence—emotions in an overflow. but the anger bubbling quickly dissipated when the fluid and ear numbing voice was heard. his. “..how could you forget ?” your voice cracked, crucially unhelpful. “that’s it ! tonight was the movie night wasn’t it ?” he bit his lip, guilt eating his heart alive. “it was.” you finished, hands shaking as you held the phone—struggling to keep it together. “it’s okay kitten, i hear you, i can’t even explain how sorry i am, let it out i’m here.” he hushed, easing your choked sobs. he stayed on the phone with you all the way to the door, enveloping you in his arms while gently rubbing your back. “how about my neighbor totoro ?” you gasped in air. “that sounds okay.” he smiled weakly, kissing your lips. “anything for you.”
BOKUTO grinned form ear to ear, this smile was most definitely not as large as it was when gazing at you—but impressive in the least. his power was phenomenal and this practice was proving simple. kotarou’s gained skill over the years bringing him to this moment. he was obsessed. although no matter how deeply he adores volleyball, you took first. today though the ace was fully charged. mind straying from the picnic date set up forty minutes ago. “that one was the best !” he shouted with glee, fists clenching pridefully. his mini celebration cut short at the gym doors being opened. there you stood, gorgeous as ever in your newly purchased sun-dress. “how’d the practice go ?” you quietly exclaimed, eyes saddened. automatically he ran to you, noting the picnic basket in your hands. “sweets i forgot i’m sorry honey i—“ the look on your face unreadable. “can we start this day over ?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “just take me on a date you oaf, and if you forget next time i’m not going to your next game.” he brightened first, then paled at the later add in. “that’s easy peasy then.” he smirked triumphantly, hands on his hips. “mhm i bet it is.” you hummed, brows lifted in amusement. ‘honey.’ you haven’t heard that one before.
AKAASHI is a busy man. from filing reports to his editing career, his life at the moment is an endless loophole of assignment after assignment. spacing out hardly any time given to spend with you. today was a breakfast day. a day he reserved especially for you, only for you. to go out and eat early and to return to your comfy abode to lay in bed, simply conversing. nevertheless, his internal alarm clock filtered on his job, waking up beside you to leave a peck on your forehead before walking to the subway station. regular routine. funny enough, this one was a close call. a very close call. seated in his office chair, your text affirmed on the screen. ‘where are you ?’ the memories drowning keiji in a huge tsunami. recollections of yesterdays excitement crashing into him. ‘went to the store, hang tight love.’ and just as fast as he’d entered the building he exited. with the small white lie discarded. déjà vu passing by at the familiar bedrooms entities. “you weren’t actually at the store we’re you ?” surveying his coat with a sleepy smile gracing your angelic face. “no, but i’m here now.” he puckered, glancing away from embarrassment. “close call.” he hovered above you, breathy kisses devouring your neck. “but i made it.” you chuckled, his lips tickling your jaw. “that you did.”
