#// being overly defensive and making assumptions about other people's muses for no reason

[beforecreation]

I swear if I gotta start being on anon watch on other people's blogs I'm just gonna retire this blog and save everyone the hassle because apparently this blog just existing is enabling someone to feel entitled to this blog. Someone I don't even know.

And I'll do it, this blog is bare bones, even compared to my other blogs, so it's no skin off my back if it has to go.

But seriously, dude. Whoever you are, if you even think about harassing people, just don't. Be a decent person, I beg you.

If anyone gets an anon that mentions my url specifically, I want it to be known I have no association with that person and that they have my sincere apologies.

I'm not gonna do anything right now, as I'm giving them a chance and I can only hope things don't escalate, but I don't want to have everyone who even looks at this blog once to deal with drama I literally cannot control at this point.

[good-rwbyaus]

@little-voice-the-parasprite wrote:  ...now I want to hear Weiss’s tale on this. This is like a fanfiction idea in the making.

Like, one of thosw fanfiction ideas where the beginning was launched out of a cannon just a few degrees to the side as opposed to canon, and the differences greadually make themselves more and more blatant and glorious as the stories unfold.

// I got you! 8) - mod lilac

____

Perspective :: Weiss // Becoming  - [ main chapter ]

logo-comics asked: What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

Weiss remembered the brunette clad in red when she first arrived. At first, she thought the overly energetic girl was Ozpin’s kid. Free and expressive without any of the reverence a student should have for an esteemed Headmaster of a combat academy.

And then she heard the Headmaster say something very scary.

“Professor Rose.”

At first she couldn’t believe it. This Rose was younger than her and still had baby fat on her face, but as the Headmaster and Professor Rose spoke about the months prior to today, she became more and more astonished.

Cutting down a pack of Beowolves on her own.

Taking down a Boarbatusk with her bare hands.

Collaborating in a Hunters mission.

A normal student at a preparatory academy couldn’t do any of these things. Even students at combat academies didn’t start participating in missions until 2nd year, but this girl - probably not older than fourteen - did it.

But what really got her was the smile the girl wore when the Headmaster spoke of her exploits. Her demeanor wasn’t arrogant but shy and excited - as if she couldn’t wait to head out to fight even more.

It’s just that the girl needed a team to do so.

Heh. Pyrrha. Who’s Pyrrha? What champion of Mistral?

This was the person she needed to partner with.

-----

"And that’s not to mention all the connections you can make knowing the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company,” Weiss explained hastily to the pajama-wearing Ruby Rose who just gave her a blank, unmoved expression.

Argh. What did this girl want?!

Ruby didn’t care about the educational pension she offered nor did she care about sponsorship by the Schnee Dust Company after graduation. She didn’t blink an eye either about having her weaponry supplemented with all the recent Dust research the SCD could offer. And the only time she did react was when she offered free expert weapon maintenance during her stay at Beacon, and the girl gave her such a disdainful stare that she got flustered and stuttered through the rest of her recruitment speech.

By the time she finished, she was red in the face, embarrassed by this girl who didn’t seem to care for this valuable opportunity at all.

Was she just playing hard-to-get, trying to get more out of her? Or were all prodigies like this?

As though she noticed how awkward she was being, Ruby sheepishly rubbed her head with an apologetic look in her face.

“Uh...Weiss, right? That’s great and all, but I don’t think you’re what I’m looking for in a partner,” Ruby said hesitantly with a bow of her head.

Was this pipsqueak looking down on her? Professor be dam- whatever.

“What are you looking for in a partner then?” Weiss asked, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice.

Ruby’s friendly demeanor turned serious at the drop of a hat.

“Can you fight?” Ruby replied without missing a beat, “And can I trust you to have my back?”

Those two questions made her mouth gape her like a goldfish. 

It was clear that all the things she cared about - connections, money, power, opportunity - were worthless in front of this fourteen year old girl. And Ruby was being genuine, not trying to negotiate more out of her like businessmen were wont to do. She could feel the conviction in the other girl’s words as if nothing else truly mattered in that little world of hers. 

It was such a shock to her own worldview that she just stood there, even after the young girl shook her head and walked away.

The girl was right.

In the end, weren’t those two things the only things that truly mattered when fighting the Grimm?

It was the first lesson she’d learn from Professor Ruby and certainly not the last.

------

Have to find Pyrrha. Have to find Pyrrha.

Dashing through the Emerald Forest at top speed, she charged towards the gold and red blur that she saw flying above earlier. Sure, maybe she wasn’t able to give her recruitment speech to the Invincible Girl, but after learning the rules of forming a team, she realized she didn’t need to.

If she had known about the absurd manner of how they’ll find partners, she wouldn’t have thoroughly embarrassed herself last night. 

Eye contact? Really?!

Well as long as she didn’t get the pretentiously suave blond guy Jaune as a partner she would count it as a win. Seriously, if she heard Snow Angel one more time, a name she couldn’t escape from when she was at Atlas or those stupid high-society parties her father favored, she was going to shove her heel into a place where the sun didn’t shine.

...Being around Ruby may or may not be worse. Sure, she’s a Professor-in-training, so she’s going to be experienced, but it would be weird having to listen to someone two years younger than her. Not to mention she thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of the gir-

As she burst through the treeline, her eyes widened as she caught a familiar crimson-cloaked figure. That figure turned its head towards her.

Silver eyes met hers, and Ruby wore a surprised expression for a moment before it quickly turned into a grimace.

“Oh.”

----

“Ah. Thank you for getting me down from that tree, Ruby,” the blond thanked, holding the spear-shotgun in his hands.

“Don’t mention it,” Ruby replied back, a genuine smile on her face. One that she never saw when the girl spoke to her. 

“I still don’t see why you got him down there,” Weiss said grumpily, “He should be able to figure out how to land himself, not need another Hunter’s help. Do you like him or something?”

“Huh?” The blond in question looked to her and then Ruby.

“I think I just like Crocea Mors.”

“Wha-?” Jaune said, glancing over at his blade and shield-scabbard.

“I thought about why I felt really good about Jaune when we met at orientation,” Ruby spoke, not really paying attention to the other two’s reactions. It seemed she was used to monologuing; Weiss couldn’t help but picture Ruby as a lonely girl despite all her outward bubbliness. “And it has to be the shield. People who use shields are either scared of death or have something to defend. And since Jaune’s here despite being unstealthy, walking in a manner that’ll easily catch him flatfooted, and not having unlocked his Aura, he’s clearly not scared of death.”

“Uhhh...” Jaune laughed nervously. Weiss could only gave him an incredulous look.

“Honestly, if I had the choice, I’d rather pick him than you, Weiss.”

That hurt in more ways than one; was Ruby’s opinion of her that low? Her gaze locked back onto Ruby.  

“Why?”

“Nothing personal. But Bart once said you can teach someone to fight, but you can’t teach loyalty,” Ruby quietly said, “And I don’t really know you well, and Jaune. Well, he has a shield.”

She was so annoyed that she wanted to laugh. Here she thought Ruby was thinking of her as completely unskilled and worthless, only for this reasoning to pop up. 

“Aren’t you being a bit arbitrary?” 

“Arbi-wha?” Ruby asked confusedly.

Weiss opened and closed her mouth before growling in frustration, “...Argh. How do I explain what that means? How can you be a prof-”

Ruby suddenly stopped and drew out her weapon. That alerted her and made her draw Myrtenaster right away. Jaune belatedly drew his blade and shield moments later. 

“Grimm are coming,” Ruby hopped upwards into the trees, “I’ll handle long-range fire. You two engage.”

------

She darted through the battlefield using her Glyphs as platforms. Her precise bladework aimed for necks, eyes, and hearts, each one efficiently dispatching the Grimm that surrounded them. Occasionally, Myrtenaster would glow with an icy or fiery light, her favored attack elements holding and destroying the Grimm that got into her range.

From above, she could hear the tinkle of fallen bullet casings as Ruby provided sniper fire. She had an eerie feeling that every bullet the girl fired lethally found its mark. 

“Hurggh!” the blond slashed down again and decapitated another Beowulf, probably the fourth or fifth compared to her dozen. Ruby was right. He was uncoordinated. Wrong foot out with his attack, sabotaging his gathered momentum. But against the young Beowolves, it was enough. And though his blade skills were poor, his body itself was pretty well-developed - if he ever started training for real, he had a really good foundation to start from. 

Weiss mused to herself. Loyal people tended to be grateful, right? Maybe she could attract that sort of loyalty to her if she were to train him, but alas she was smart enough to know she was far from qualified. She’s more likely to lead him down the wrong path and wouldn’t that generate resentment instead?

Still, it’d be interesting to see if he could gain the skills Ruby expected him to get in the futur-

Wha- wrong Glyph?

She stumbled and slid into the ground instead of onto the Glyph she wanted to create. Lifting her head up, she saw the Beowulf she landed in front of about to deliver a haymaker onto her frame. 

“Weiss!” 

She saw the blond’s back as he stood in front of her, shield protecting them both. Her heart fluttered for a moment. Despite her cruel words and rejections, Jaune still took up her defense. 

Loyalty.

The blond stumbled to the ground as he absorbed the blow, his hasty positioning too unstable to withstand it. Struck flat into the ground, Jaune groaned as his shield arm fell out of position with the Grimm about to strike down again.

“No!” she screamed.

Myrtenaster glowed white as she brought herself between the fist and Jaune, a White Glyph manifesting in front of her. 

But then a flash of white suddenly bisected the Grimm, and its figure dissipated into red petals. Ruby came into view, slowly folding her scythe back into its portable form - the one or two Grimm that remained seemed to have been cleaned up by her. 

Before she could thank the girl, Ruby started speaking. 

"Ahh sorry. I knew you had it,” Ruby said apologetically before grinning, “I just wanted a chance to get up close and personal.”

It made things a bit awkward to be misunderstood like that, and she paused for a moment trying to find tactful words before realizing what she should actually be doing. 

She lent a hand to a dazed Jaune and helped hoist him up. 

“Hey,” Weiss said shyly, “Thanks for blocking that blow and s-saving me.”

“Ha. No problem. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s take a beating,” Jaune laughed, patting his chest with his fist. 

His casualness brought a smile to her face, and it was nice to see another somewhat normal person in their group of three. Their companionable silence lasted for a moment before it was broken by Jaune. 

“Ruby, why’d you fight long-range?” Jaune turned his head and asked confusedly, “I thought you’re a pretty good scythe wielder.”

Ruby lightly kicked a pebble on the ground as she frowned and grimaced, “I don’t want to be levitated out the Admin Tower by my foot again.”

Huh?

“For messing up another collaboration. Like umm... I use a scythe. I hit very wide, and you two fight in melee range and we’ve never fought together,” Ruby animatedly swung her hands to mimic her motions before finishing, “so things could get really bad, and Glynda said if I ever fought like that again, she’l-”  

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” 

Pyrrha finally appeared. 

---

Pyrrha and Jaune went their separate ways, having rejected their offer to travel together. When she asked Ruby about it, Ruby simply said, “I think we’ll be surprised by Jaune when we meet him again.”

As she said this, the girl rubbed her cheek against her weapon as if drawing comfort from it. It was oddly familiar, and she remembered her doing the same back when the girl was with Headmaster Ozpin at orientation.  

“You really like your weapon, don’t you?” Weiss teased. 

“Crescent Rose,” she closed her eyes and didn’t stop hugging her weapon, “She’s the promise of the life I want to live.”

Weiss shut her mouth. 

What could she say to that?

“You haven’t maintained your own weapon yourself for a long time, have you?”

The other girl’s expression was soft, and when paired with the almost loving expression she had for her own weapon, her words seemed more patient and guiding instead of accusatory. In fact, ever since their fight against the Beowolves, Ruby seemed less standoffish with her as if...

...she finally earned the other girl’s approval.  

“You’re right,” Weiss admitted, deciding that she didn’t want to harm their fledgling relationship with fake blustering. Ruby’s right. She left it to someone she thought an expert. “How could you tell?”

Ruby held her hand out, and she knew what she wanted and handed Myrtenaster over to her. 

“What’s your weapon’s name?”

“Myrtenaster...?” Uhh. Why’d Ruby want to know?  

“Myrtenaster,” she nodded her head before saying, “Myrtenaster’s cylinder kept moving less smoothly during your fight, and it’s been throwing you off. You don’t trust in Myrtenaster’s mechanism anymore.”

Like what she was doing before with Crescent Rose, Ruby held the weapon’s guard against her cheek. Weiss couldn’t help but feel astonished.  

How good was Ruby’s eye of discernment to notice that small detail while they were all fighting? 

“So you keep using your eyes to check what dust color you’re using,” Ruby continued, her hand slowly turning the Myrtenaster’s cylinder, “And you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t think it’s a problem anymore, except that the lapse in your attention nearly got you hurt today. 

“I think Myrtenaster would be sad if that happened, even more than your lack of trust in it,” Ruby opened her eyes sorrowfully before holding the weapon, hilt out, back to her, which she graciously accepted. 

“Whoever your expert is is probably remedying the quirk with a good amount of oil, which solves the smoothness but not the unreliability,” she sighed, “Myrtenaster must’ve taken a very nasty blow to the blade in the past, which probably misaligned the cylinder column. You probably only noticed it after you’ve used it for a while - a detail your expert probably wouldn’t have noticed because they don’t actually wield your weapon.”

Weiss recalled a phantom pain against her scarred eye, a Giant Armor’s fist crashing against both her and Myrtenaster. She had the blade itself repaired, but Ruby was right - she never noticed the cylinder’s problems until recently, and her expert kept saying it was in perfect condition despite her concerns.

“I get what you’re saying. I’ll maintain my weapon on my own from now on,” Weiss acquiesced.

“I’m sure Myrtenaster would like that,” she smiled, genuine happiness on her face once more before slight awkwardness returned to it, “Uhh. Hmm. Come on. Let’s get the chess pieces and finish up this Initiation. Maybe we can fight something along the way!”

Ruby already started dashing through the forest, and Weiss gave chase. 

Weiss couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden switch in demeanor.

What a strange girl. 

[leora-rambles]

Always Have, And Always Will (Rohan Kishibe X Reader [Angst/Fluff])

accept my garbage. imma rewrite this one day because I’m not happy with it right now. I’m not very good at writing people fighting so 😔

————————————

“I don’t feel loved anymore, Rohan.”

Two years ago, you uttered those words to him.

Two years ago, Rohan wanted to scream at you. He wanted to tell you that he needed you, because in all honestly— he did.

Without you, how was he supposed to find the perfect reference for his art?

Without you, how was he supposed to fall asleep at night without your soft singing?

‘You’re my muse!’ He wanted to hold you tight in his arms, to hold you until you changed your mind. ‘You always were, and always will be!’ He wanted to tell you all these things, but his ego restrained him from doing so.

Rohan gritted his teeth.

The male could’ve called Heavens Door out on you (with ease), but he knew well enough back then that that damn brat Josuke would find out sooner or later. And this time, the pompadour wearing teen would not be merciful enough to heal Rohan at the end of his beatdown.

“Excuse me?” “I’ve had enough. I tried my best to be patient with you, I swear I did, but I’m past my limit. I’m leaving, Rohan.” He flinched at your words, but soon regained his defensive stance.

Rohan smiled in a snotty manner, “It’s funny how you think this matters to me.” He took in your hurt expression as fuel for his words. His insults were sharp, yet left a dull pain around where he jabbed.

“Don’t even think about crawling back to me after all this. You’ll realize soon enough how helpless you are without the great, Rohan Kishi—!” the door slamming interrupted his last syllable.

After several months of waiting for your return, he came to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, you had meant what you had said. Rohan’s ego took a huge hit upon realizing that.

‘Shit.’ He cussed to himself, ‘Reimis pocky fortune telling was right.’

Rohan replayed this moment in his mind as he stared you down. He found it amusing, almost.

“You look...” He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “...not terrible.” He looked away slyly as he noticed your eyes furrowed at his remark.

You kept a smile on your lips, “I’d say the same for you, Kishibe. Bold fashion sense, as always.” He didn’t know if your reply was supposed to be taken as a compliment or not.

Rohan looked you straight in the eyes, smirking as he spoke, “Anyways, why have you called me here? Is this how you’re apologizing?—”

He laid his chin on top of his crossed fingers, an action he often did when he thought he had won an argument.

“—Are you crawling back to me like I said you would?” He was clearly holding down a myriad of other assumptions he wanted to jab at you.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as the mangaka before you snickered.

Can he be blamed for being cocky about this situation, though?

Rohan could only think of the nights he was enveloped by misery, crying into the bed you two once shared.

He could only think of the days he stared blankly at the overly detailed portraits he secretly drew of you.

The only thing on his mind was how pitiful he was after you had practically ripped him to shreds.

His massive ego was nonexistent at that dark time.

He missed the way you made him feel every night you waltzed into his office with a drink in hand.

Surprisingly, he was as bitter as you were, if not, even more. To Rohan, he was doing his past self a favour by putting up a haughty facade against you.

He was simply protecting his pride.

“I’m not here for that.” You fiddled with your coffee cup in irritation. “My publicist told me that it would be beneficial if I were to collaborate with another Mangaka,” you explained, not noticing how Rohan’s face of smugness faltered for a moment.

“They didn’t approve of my suggestions since they thought the people I chose weren’t on the same level as me. They instead, recommended you.” You continued, looking to the side in annoyance.

The males smug smirk appeared on his face once again. Of course he was the only one that was up to your mangas standards. You both shared the throne for an impressive art style, as well as impeccable writing.

At least, you thought so.

In Rohan’s mind, he had surpassed your art and writing by a million. There is no being that could possibly be above The Great Rohan Kishibe.

He thought of you higher than anyone else (to the point of dating you), but for him to see you as an equal would mean you would have to be a god.

Rohan was elated, but irked at the fact he wasn’t one of your main recommendations.

He gets that you’re bitter, you both are, but did your emotions really cloud your sense of judgement?

He knew—no, Rohan made sure that you were aware of how much influence he had, so why wasn’t he first on your list of recommendations?

“Your publicist,” the mangaka started “Do they know about our past together?” Rohan questioned with a weariness around his words.

A sad smile appeared on your face.

“Of course not.” Your hands halted their fiddling with your coffee cup.

“You asked us not to go public about our relationship, did you not?” The sour tone in your expression would be unnoticeable if it weren’t for Rohan’s observant nature.

The male nodded. He remembered what he harshly told you years ago clearly. Rohan suspected that that was one of the reasons you had broken up with him.

You regained your composure.

“Aside from all that, this collaboration has a lot of benefits.” Changing the topic, you focused your mind back on persuading Kishibe into doing this collaboration with you.

Being in a relationship with him before had its perks, as it was easier for you to know what results he wanted for his manga.

You knew more than anyone else that he preferred ‘being read’ much more than money or fame.

Watching the male close his eyes, you spoke, “It reaches out to a new audience, which means more people will read our mangas. It will make our titles more well known, and it gives us the opportunity to widen our creativity.” You finally gained enough confidence to ask the big question.

“Are you willing to collaborate?” You braced yourself for his decline, cringing on the inside.

Rohan held a nonchalant face, opening his eyes and finally speaking.

“I’ll let this collaboration come into fruition. If it expands the amount of people that read my manga, then I don’t have a reason to decline.”

When a berate of taunts and accusations of how you were trying to crawl back to him didn’t meet your ears, you could feel a cooling wave of relief wash over you.

“Plus, your manga could most likely use a boost from me...”

You ignored his unnecessary remark, still glad he didn’t reject your offer. Your lungs felt free again, and you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Alright,” You started, “just call me if you have any ideas.” You waved a hand, turning around to take your leave.

He watched you get farther and farther away until you were finally out of his sight.

Rohan scoffed, examining his coffee cup before bringing it up to his lips.

‘Everything I told you was bullshit.’ He hid a grin behind his coffee cup, daintily taking a sip of the hot drink.

‘I just wanted an excuse to pester you.’

•

“No, no, but guys, listen. He told me ‘You look...not terrible’. What kind of greeting is that?!” You ranted to your group of friends, while a certain purple haired male was concentrated on a compact mirror you lent him.

It was a week after meeting with your ex. You had met up with Rohan daily to discuss the collaboration. Today was one of the breaks you got to have, so you called Josuke and the others up for a drink.

Josuke spoke with a light lisp due to the bobby pins he held between his teeth, “Why’d you even bother reaching out to his stuck up ass? Weren’t you scared that he was going to rub it in your face about how you were the first to start talking to him again?” He carefully pinned a loose hair down into his pompadour.

You shoved your face into your hands as you let a muffled cry escape your lips, “I don’t even know why my publicist did this. I declined working with him like crazy...” With a groan, you sunk your head into the table, arms covering your eyes.

“Maybe deep down, you still have feelings for him?” Koichi sipped his drink, looking up at you. Josuke choked on his bobby pins at the silver haired boy’s sentence, while Okuyasu started giggling at the thought.

You shuddered, raising your head. “God, I’ll start liking him again once the sky starts turning people into snails.” As you were about to drink your cappuccino, your phone vibrating stopped you.

“Speak of the devil...” you thought out loud as Rohan’s name appeared on the screen.

You answered the call, your friends eavesdropping in silence.

“Hello—?” “My house. 4:30 pm, sharp. Don’t be late.” “Wait Roha—“ the mangaka had already hung up before you could finish your sentence.

You checked the clock. 4:23 pm.

This piece of— “I’m sorry guys, I have to go back to the devils house.” You grabbed your purse and began collecting your belongings.

You pointed at the purple haired teen, “Oi, if I anything happens, I’ll text you.” Josuke nodded at your words, returning your compact mirror.

Bidding your friends goodbye, you sprinted over to the mangakas house.

You stood at his door, attempting to regain your breath. You knew that Rohan disliked it when people were even too early, so you arrived at his house perfectly on time.

The male opened the door before you could knock, staring you down with judgmental eyes.

“You look like you ran a marathon.” He snickered, placing a hand on his hip.

“I sprinted here.” A sneer escaped your lips as Rohan let out a poorly hidden laugh. Even with him seated on his high horse, you noticed a trickle of sweat drip down Rohan’s forehead before he turned around.

Rohan spoke, brushing you off as he sauntered away. “You can come inside. We’ll settle things in the living room.”

Hold up. Settle? What does he mean by settle?

He’d normally say ‘discuss’, or something along those lines, but ‘settle’?

Perhaps you were overthinking this?

“Rohan, I don’t want to merge our past together with this project.”

He stopped in his tracks. “I was talking about the ideas for our collaboration, unless you do want to talk about our messy breakup.” Rohan’s response made blood rush over to your face in embarrassment.

Shaking your head, you gave him a glare and puffed out your chest, “You made it seem like we were going to talk about it, and that’s the last thing I want.”

The eye contact you two made was uncomfortable, stillness clearly suffocating the atmosphere.

Rohan breathed before focusing his attention on the coffee table.

“Sit down.” He instructed, and you sat at the opposite side of the couch from him. Rohan crossed his legs before speaking,

“I assume you had fun talking trash about me to Josuke and the others?”

The colour on your face drained as you choked on air. “Were you fucking stalking me?!” “It’s not stalking, I only did it this one time. Stalking is—“ “I don’t give a shit! You were watching me anyways!” You compressed yourself against the armrest in an attempt to put some space between you and Rohan.

The green haired male scoffed at your actions. “All the trash he talked was rich coming from a dumbass who has a clump of hair gel in replace for a brain.” Rohan mocked as he recalled the conversation.

He noticed your eyebrows twitch downwards in frustration. “Don’t bring Josuke into this, Rohan.” You spoke in a slow, dangerous tone, a tone that Rohan ignored completely.

“Why are you defending him? Are you trying to get back at me?” You could sense the hurt in his voice despite him covering it up with layers of pettiness. “Or are you trying to embarrass me by hanging with someone who’s clearly a downgrade?”

He took your silence as a mocking ‘yes’.

He clenched his teeth. “Was leaving me not enough for you?!” While he was yelling, you were preparing yourself to stand up and leave. This fighting would clearly do nothing but fuel more malice towards each other.

Surely, your publicist would understand—

“You probably didn’t even give a shit about me or our relationship!”

You didn’t know why, but that very sentence set you off. What were you to Rohan? An emotionless robot?

“If you think I didn’t care about you, then you’re dumber than I thought!” You managed to cry out, your eyes welling up with each second. It was two years, but even two years wasn’t enough time for you to heal from such an eventful relationship with him.

The amount of disbelief you were feeling right now was too much to handle. “For you to even think that after everything that happened between us is just..!” You tried to calm your frantic breathing as you spoke.

Rohan chewed at the inside of his bottom lip as he watched your despaired expression. “You know damn well that I cared about you, Rohan.” A choked heave escaped your mouth, “It hurt to even wake up every morning because I knew I’d just watch you work yourself half to death!”

“I told you to take a break so many times, but heaven forbid your significant other ‘distract you from your work’!” Rohan’s heart swelled from listening to your confession. It felt like hands were just gripping at his lungs.

He saw the misery eating you alive in this moment, and it pained Rohan realizing that this was probably not the first time you had broken down because of him.

“Was I asking you for too much, Rohan?” The way your voice died at the end of your sentence broke Kishibe.

Your voice grew softer and quieter with each question that came past your lips.

“Did I wrong you in some way?”

“Was I too clingy?”

Rohan felt his heart grow heavy.

How did he not find this out much sooner?

How did he not see the relationships flame burn out?

“Was I not up to your sta—“ “Enough!”

Rohan’s booming voice echoed around his home.

He grasped your hands, guiding them away from your hair. You didn’t realize that you were pulling on it due to the overwhelming emotions consuming you.

Rohan’s voice was noticeably shaky, “I know you think of me badly, and damn it, you’re right for thinking so, but...” He wasn’t looking into your eyes, instead focusing them on his lap. “Even if I didn’t show my affection, I still loved you!”

The moment he looked up at you was the moment he finally let his own tears out, his own anguish and misery rivalling yours.

“I love you, damn it! I always have, and always will!” Rohan’s shoulders were trembling as he declared this.

“You hurt me when you left, alright?! You hurt me so damn much—!” His grip on your wrist was reminiscent of a fearful child afraid of being abandoned. “—I couldn’t sleep or eat, let alone draw for days, that was how much you broke me after leaving!” Rohan let out a strangled sob as he let go of your arms.

He wiped violently at his eyes in a failed attempt to stop the tears.

Silent, you let your hands comb through his hair, being careful not to move his headband.

He seemingly took comfort in your touch, leaning into it and remembering you often did this action whenever he showed that he was distressed.

Rohan’s breath still hitched, even as you did your best to console him.

The house was quiet.

Rohan spoke again after he regained his breath. “Once I finally got over the breakup,” he snivelled, “you came back, and so did the memories.”

The only positive memories you recalled came from the beginning. They were the days where he’d actually communicate with you.

“All I could remember was tucking you in to bed while you slept. It was almost always after we fought over something stupid.” Rohan let his heart speak, not caring about his haughty facade crumbling.

He continued reminiscing. “Whenever you became ill, I’d sit by you and you’d mumble the dumbest things to me.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. Having assumed that all those nights he cared for you were dreams, it was surprising to hear that that was not the case.

“You’d say things like ‘Rohan, that kid will make you explode don’t touch him’, or ‘The frogs have bones’. I assumed it was your medicine doing that.” A shadow of a smile hinted itself on Rohan’s expression.

You stayed quiet, coaxing Rohan to speak more. “When you returned, I felt like all the progress I made went to nothing. I thought I was over you, but when I saw you at the cafe,” He rambled on, “I felt myself wanting you in my arms again.”

Rohan guided your hands to his face, planting your palms on his jawline and cheek. “So please...”

“Come back to me.” The way he murmured this to you made your heart flip.

He looked down, awaiting your answer. Rohan feared for the worst. He feared that you’d mock him using his vulnerability.

Your voice caught the mangakas attention. “This doesn’t mean we’re fully healed yet, but,” you could sense the hope burning in Rohan’s chest as you spoke in a slightly hoarse tone,

“I’ll come back to you.”

He tackled you into the sofa, arms intertwined around you. Rohan enveloped you in his arms, burying his face into your neck, a wave of pure happiness washing over him. “I wanted you back for so long.” He admitted, relaxing in your scent.

You chuckled at his actions, returning his embrace and leaving a kiss on the crown of his head.

Rohan lifted himself off of you, bringing his face up to yours.

“I’ll be better for you, and that’s a lot coming from someone’s who’s already the best.” You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in and closing the gap between your lips and his.

This was a good first step for the both of you.