#𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ;; 𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑳𝑬𝑭𝑻 𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑬. ⎯⎯⎯ interacts.

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​:‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

 ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . It took her that long, huh. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍I bet because of how she worried all the time. ”

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍AH. And THERE was the typical Natsuno bite!

 ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍( . . . Mean. )

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Dry humor, however, quickly disperses into. . . Deep displeasure however, at hearing of Ozaki. Unfortunately. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It felt like a betrayal, and as soon as fully processed this words, he flashed a scowl down into his lap.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Traitor. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍In his mind, he began to spit a slew of insults. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍So two old guys just get to go and live out their golden years while I’m stuck with this, right?

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s enough to make his blood boil.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Figures.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He cools down into a simmer as he rips his mind away from it, but it will be staying back there in his mind for some time now.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  “ I see. . . ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍   ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍. . . My dad must have died then, somewhere in the middle of it. 

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍   ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍ I’m not surprised, or too sad about that. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍   ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍ For him. . .It was probably better. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Another small breath thereafter.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍   “ . . . What about what you’ve done with the life I saved? ” ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​:‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

 ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍In all of his time spent alone, Natsuno had developed his own form of diligence, and took that self appointed duty very seriously.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍What happened here could have been much worse, but even with what did happen, it was left uninhabitable. All that remained here were the corpses of the slain for the past twenty - some years, ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍and when the soil swallowed them, Natsuno made sure that the only ones that remained were his own and the carcass of the village itself.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Nothing else would ever touch it. Nothing but his own hands and ghostly footsteps along empty dirt roads.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍No part of this scares him anymore, and the silence isn’t particularly perturbing, either. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍However. . . If anything here did cause him unrest. . .

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . It would be the old Mutou home.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Perhaps it was the idea of seeing the visions the self that they had killed so alive roaming these rooms that veered him away from it, along with all of the memories that followed. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Even now, his stomach does a flip at the thought of having to face one of the two homes that had died with him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . It sinks entirely upon entering, though.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It feels like he had suddenly become lost in the forests he’d come to know so well, or that he’d been abandoned in a shopping mall with no known way to get out and nowhere he can run to after leaving.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His body doesn’t necessarily feel. . . There. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His throat feels terribly dry as well.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . He ascends up the stairs. Makes no detours. If he makes a detour, he thinks it will be all over for him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Upstairs. To room. Do not look at the walls. Do not look at anything. Sit on the bed. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Mission accomplished. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Now stare at Tohru’s face, and nothing else once he sits.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ Firstly. . . How many of the others got out with you. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍A safe start. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​:‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍There’s a sound that escapes him. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s a short breath, but one that sounds like maybe it would have been a chuckle, should it have been followed through.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It wasn’t, though. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Much akin to a stillbirth.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Whereas the wall doesn’t seem to be giving with his humor, there’s obvious cracks that have formed with the affection ; ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍what had always made him more pliant was the feeling of nails gently scraping against his scalp, and he can’t help but wonder how planned that was in order to get him to kiss him back again.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍⎯⎯⎯ Likely not at all.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Natsuno would have folded, with or without that. And he knows he would have.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍After having pulled away, he stares at the hand held out to him, long and hard.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍I know I shouldn’t.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But he could.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍This is dangerous.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He takes a pace back, ultimately denying himself from any of his wants once again.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ It’s exactly like you all left it. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍. . . At the very least, he won’t deny himself the chance to rest with him. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Even if he knows the one night where he doesn’t have to sleep alone will ultimately set him back to square one in learning how to deal with it.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ Let’s go, then. ” ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​:‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

 ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The corner of his lip twitches.  ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s been a long time since he’s felt it waver, let alone threaten to upturn when it should.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He wished he wouldn’t joke. He’s still good at it, and he still has to fight against the urge to react when he does it like before. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍This instance exactly, to the letter, is something they’d use to do in their day to day, too.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He can’t decide whether or not it’s sweet release or torment.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His arm lifts, fingers twitching, and then all movement from it stops. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s as if he’d realized mid motion what he had been doing, and mentally smacked his own hand for even thinking of performing the action.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Don’t hold onto something that’s going to slip through your fingers again.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Idiot.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His arm lowers, and with it, his chest feels hollow again as well.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . No, ” he responds shortly.  “ I don’t. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Another brief pause.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ This is all I’ve had for a long time now. When it comes to   ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ things to tell, you definitely have more. ” ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍@micsmasmuses​

“it doesn’t do any good to get worked up.” - from Kaori

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ She's right. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ A matter of fact agreeance from Yuuki, his weight shifting from one side to the other as he crosses his arms over his chest.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It wasn’t like he was trying to overhear.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Minding his own business was always Natsuno’s prerogative, even if it did have to do with the Tanaka siblings. It simply was the way he was ; if it doesn’t immediately concern him, then he wouldn’t make it concern him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ . . .Though, perhaps this was a special case.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ After all, the only reason why Akira was getting so ` worked up ` in the first place was because kids in his class were apparently gossiping about how ` Akira spends time with that sketchy outside city guy. Nobody even likes him. `

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ If you were to ask him, he couldn’t care any less about the argument. Especially if it was right. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ It wasn’t as though he actively tried to be liked, anyway. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ Most important of all, the opinions of some uninvolved grade school kids weren’t even that significant. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ Just another example of small town gossip that he managed to unintentionally clue in on only because he’d decided to meet with the Tanaka siblings first thing class let out.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But Akira was hot - headed. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Though younger than him, he had always been adamant on standing up for Natsuno, even if Natsuno didn’t particularly care about whatever inconvenient situation he landed in or what people said.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He’d appreciate his efforts if he 1. didn’t already have someone else doing that for him, and 2. if it wouldn’t only cause problems for Akira in the long run.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ They’ll be talking about something else tomorrow, anyway.   ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍��‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ That’s just the way this place is. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍And he’s sure Kaori would agree. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

 ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s almost humiliating, how something so simple can make him feel so soothed ⎯⎯⎯  ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍As though he were a child again, and not someone that lived on a diet half consistent to feeding on the blood of the people around him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Anyone in their right mind would be insulted by the sight.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍This would be the moment, if it were anyone else, that they’d have stabbed him in the back, in quite the literal sense. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍This would be a mercy kill if it were anyone else.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But Tohru wasn’t going to kill him, even if he did wish that he would right about now.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Instead, this is sentimental, and it causes Natsuno’s eyes to sting just a bit more persistently.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Why do I feel like you’re welcoming me home when I’m not even leaving here?

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Another thought.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Why do you feel like what I remember home to be?

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He has to regroup again before he speaks. He’s telling himself not to press any closer again, not to allude that this is the most comforted he’s been since his ` death, ` but he knows that to be truth on the inside. 

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His eyes wouldn’t be hurting as much as they do if it wasn’t the truth.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The nails running in soothing lines against his scalp bring welcomed pinpricks of warmth to his brain, but only cause them to pang harder, and for him to have to blink more rapidly.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍I’m not doing this. I’m not doing this.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . Likewise. And I probably will again. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Because that is the way it has to be, and that it will be. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍This is, in the long haul, just the artistic way that someone goes about a double suicide. ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍Yes he does, idiot.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ God, why is he stupid.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍God, why is he so stupid.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍All these things he does are all things of a time that’s passed, and knowing that they’ve passed and are gone is what makes his fingers feel more like knives that are slicing the sides of his face each time they hold it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He’s lost count of how many things he’s mentally told Tohru not to do in his mind, only to find that he does them anyway.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍Smile is the greatest offense.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He feels more tired than he’s ever felt, and dully, he wonders if that’s just what pain feels like now ; ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍being tired and weary, feeling like your limbs can’t hold themselves up so you just want to lay down feel the ground take you.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He’s never thought about it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍One of the many things he’s never thought about.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍At one point, all he felt was a general dissatisfaction. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The dissatisfaction turned to a raw anger later on. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Then, nothing. Just nothing.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But this was all just an amalgamation of things that hurt, and it’s finally wearing him down. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His eyelids are heavy as he looks up at him, and it takes him a minute more than it should for him process that he even said anything.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . A deep breath slips from his lips.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ No. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Unable to stay open much longer, his eyes shut. His face lowers into Tohru’s hands, and without another word, he steps forward. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍And again. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍And again.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍Until his head rests squarely against the middle of his chest, and all of the fight seems to leave his body entirely. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Even he can only take so much.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ Why did you have to come back for me. ” ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:‍‍‍‍

 ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Stop asking me for things you know I’ll give.

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Don’t you see how unfair this is?

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He asks and asks and asks and Natsuno gives because he still loves him he has the same face he did before. Older, maybe. More tired, maybe. But still the same, and he still has his name, and it’s still him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s still him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Screw you, his mind spits. Screw off. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍You play dirty.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He’s grateful that his face is hidden in his neck for the time that it is, because in those moments that there was no way he couldn’t feel his body against his own, his own face in Tohru’s shoulder, his eyes stung then.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He felt his lashes lower, nearly shut, and the corner of his lip just slightly twitch.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Asshole. Asshole.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His jaw clenches and unclenches several times, the sting soon fading once his mind was focused on an entirely different task than that.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍There would be none of that.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍When Tohru pulls away to look at him, he falls back into his earlier defense ; he won’t look at him. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He just stares ahead ⎯⎯⎯ more like he’s seeing through him, to tear himself away from what seems to be hitting close to home.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . It doesn’t seem like I can deny you to begin with. ”  ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍You can’t do this to me.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He told himself not to close his eyes when their lips met.  ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍They shut anyway.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He told himself not to melt when their embrace inevitably deepened, after over twenty years since they last kissed. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He melted anyway.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He told himself after realizing it would not just be one kiss after all not to reciprocate any of they rest that came. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He did it anyway.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Three screwups at once, combined with the fact that he should be pulling himself away from him and instead isn’t making a fourth.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍Why do you feel the need to make this impossible.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s infuriating, how much more he can do to weaken all of his walls. 

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But you aren’t breaking me.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍There is at least one last thing he won’t do, one last thing he knows Tohru wants him to do, and he will refuse to do it. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Even if the soothing warmth flooding his body demands it, filling his chest and making Tohru feel magnetic, he will deny it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He will not move into this embrace. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He will not fully cave.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍He won’t step in closer. He won’t wrap his arms around him. He won’t tuck is face into his neck and let his muscles relax in his hold.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He won’t do it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He won’t break.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . I’m not leaving here, Tohru. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . Ah. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Now he’s the one saying that, isn’t he.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His breath jumps audibly, entire body freezing.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s at that moment that he realizes something that he had never thought of before now. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍That he never had to think of.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He had forgotten entirely what contact had felt like.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Violent contact. Gentle contact. Any of it. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It felt foreign, and especially this contact seemed to incite a feeling that he could only equate to fear.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Somewhere far off, in a thrown away past, he remembers this ⎯⎯⎯ but it’s been too long.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It corroded like how time naturally wastes away most all things, and now it feels less comforting than it feels foreign. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He felt too vulnerable. Too exposed. No longer feared, like he was supposed to be.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It was unnerving, and every muscle felt rigid.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . But soon, it starts to eat at him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It makes him feel like he’s about to choke, chest constricting and brows pinching as if he were suddenly in physical pain.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It does hurt, though. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Having what slipped through your fingers standing in front of you, gently holding you, begging for some kind of give from you when you’re supposed to be dead hurts.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍You’re forced to face that this is what they’d desperately wished for in your absence.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It was selfish, but Natsuno had wanted to escape this very prospect.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It was too optimistic to think that he ever could, however. Life didn’t favor Natsuno. He knew better.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Yet again, Natsuno is swallowed by somber defeat, and dips into rueful resignation.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . I’ll never win with you. ”

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍So, all I have left is just to die in your arms again,  ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ and then freshly remember the hell of your absence.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Forcefully shutting his own eyes, he closes the rest of the distance between them on his own accord, finally pressing his lips firmly against his.

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Stop.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s repeated in his mind like a mantra, over and over, in quick succession ⎯⎯⎯   ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍and in only mere seconds, it changes into a mix of stop shut up stop shut up stop shut up.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Most of all,

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ let go.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍This was the problem about Tohru. This was the thing about him ; ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍he would always be the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Natsuno.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍If he begged for him to look at him, he would do it because of his earnest. If he told him that he missed him, that he wanted him back, he would cave. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Because it was Tohru.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍He hates that.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He hates that he makes it so easy to think of a delusion where he could simply go back to living a normal life, with no thoughts to what he’s become or how much time has passed or how different things were.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Shut. Up. Tohru.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He wants to yell. If he had the mental capacity for exasperation, perhaps he would be able to express, somehow, how much he wants him to shut the hell up and stop appealing to his better nature that should stay dead.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But it’s all trapped in body that’s still only 5′7″, and a mind that’s broken the on / off switch to showing whatever emotions he feels.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s frustrating and exhausting he he hates all of it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Most of all, he hates how weak he is.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍How hard it is to not look at him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Shut. The. Hell. Up.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍�� ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ Leave. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Don’t pull me any closer. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍Don’t hold onto me any tighter. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Stop making this so hard.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Stop making it impossible for me to put more conviction into telling you to go.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Stop making me feel reluctant about it.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​​:

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ …  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Detach. Detach. Detach.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s unclear at this point who his mind is pleading with ⎯⎯⎯ himself, or Tohru   ⎯⎯⎯ but all he does know is that of all things he wants to be right now, what isn’t on that list is being touched.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Being touched reinforces that naïve idea that you aren’t alone. That you have something, someone, or somewhere to go back to. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Natsuno has survived to this point just fine after the loss of it, and subsequently all that came with it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But all it takes is one touch to mend something. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍And one touch to break it all over again.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍` Don’t make this harder for me.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍Don’t make this harder for either of us. `

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍Don’t touch me.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Natsuno hates that it doesn’t take Tohru much to get him to stop ; as if over twenty years hadn’t passed. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍As if they were still young, and nothing had ever changed. As if nothing went wrong.   ‍‍‍As if their lives continued from where they left off.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍But he knows for a fact that Tohru is different now. He gained a life somewhere, became somebody, and he isn’t dead. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍There was no place for Natsuno in his narrative anymore. Regardless of the circumstances of Natsuno’s survival and Tohru having seen him again.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Why couldn’t Tohru himself face that?  ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Why was Natsuno the only one confronting that glaring, obvious fact?

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍. . . No. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍Natsuno had always been the one, out of the two of them, that had been more realistic.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  “ . . . What good would that do you? ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍He turns around to face him, dull eyes locked on his and expression void.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  “ You’d have been better off if you let go of me to begin with. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍   ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍If I do what you want, you never will. ” ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​:

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍｢ . . .  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍  ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Another scavenger.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍They came along all the time ; they hear these ruins were the site of some unexplainable tragedy, and they try to pick it apart in hopes of maybe finding something valuable to sell off.

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Despite already knowing what would stop them.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He wonders why a lot of them try anymore. He’s fully aware that outsiders know who he is and what he does here, but why they still come eludes him. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍⎯⎯⎯ To taunt him?

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍As if it would do anything.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Regardless, he remains diligent in his self - appointed duty; ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ever static, always with a one - track agenda.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It was the only thing about himself that stayed.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍From the very moment the vehicle turned into the village to the moment it parked, Yuuki had followed like a vengeful phantom. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍No matter where it went, he would have found it regardless of whether he had tailed it or not, but he could never shake this sense of urgency that came over him when it came to this. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍There is always a dull voice yelling at him in his mind to make them leave before they disturb this place. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Usually, it’s nothing but what he calls business when he mobilizes himself, but this scenario is just a different this time. There is outrage that bubbles in his gut sometime into progression of this, from the moment the vehicle is abandoned to this very second. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍` How dare you stop your car at a place I called a second home. `

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s personal when it shouldn’t be, but it’s enough to make it burn. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Then, the matter of them knowing his name comes to light, and he thinks maybe, just maybe, this taunt may actually just be working, if it is one. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Further begs the question ; taunt, or a challenge?

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Like this, he could easily be persuaded into a killing mood.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍And he is, when it just so happens that he stops in front of his old home.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . ”

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He looks at him like he actually does know him.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ Which is a funny thought.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍` There’s no one left to know me. Idiot. `

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He’s good at acting, though. He’ll give him the credit for that much.  ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But to think he could be so easily fooled? That’s a joke.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His hands remain at his sides through being touched, and even when the stranger collapses in front of him and starts breaking down against his body.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He doesn’t even pretend to feel anything towards the current turn of events. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍In fact, he can only stand to bear it for only a few moments. ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He’s taken enough insult.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Brows pinching in with a twitch, he reaches for one of his arms, ripping it away from his form far enough to make this man stare him right in the eyes ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The eyes that have gone dark, the only thing filling the empty, black depths being two rings of red.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ Quit screwing around.  ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but it isn’t me.

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ Pull out the stake I know you have and get it over with. ”

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

@micsmasmuses​:

｢ . . .  ｣

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It’s a dumbfounded stalemate.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Both of them look like hopeless idiots. No one has to say it for Natsuno to know it ⎯⎯⎯ he can feel it without even needing to look at himself, or even either of themselves.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But for Natsuno, perhaps it’s the overall shock of it.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍To begin with, Natsuno had never seen himself as one to garner any sort of desirable affection from anybody at all.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Shimizu’s sort of ` affection ` was the only sort he could ever see himself attaining, and so, he could only find the notion of ` romantic feelings ` to be an inconvenience.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍( Even if he himself had felt something akin ; emotions he swallowed down for fear being one of those ` inconveniences ` he so loathed. )

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Secondly, he could never see himself someone who would ever be kissed by anyone, either. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He never saw himself getting this far with anybody, and he was never so foolish as to dream of or hope for it. Feelings don’t come easy ⎯⎯⎯ not for him ; even if he did gain some intense enough, he didn’t think it would become anything.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍( Also untrue. He did hope for it, and these feelings did come easy. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ This was different, though. Apart from his normal perspective on it, and it was only due to the subject matter ; whom. )

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . All in all, this was entirely unexpected. Unpredicted. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ( What he had been hoping for. 

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ For a good while now. ) ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

Still, he wishes he knew how to take this.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍If he was better versed in this realm of things, maybe he’d know. People usually learn how to handle and interpret affection from their parents, but with his home life having always been so different, he wasn’t surprised to find that there were certain areas he lacked an understanding for.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It wasn’t as though he watched any kind of movie that would help him figure it out, either.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍(

Too unrealistic,

he would always argue if asked. )

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He knew how he

felt,

but how to further

express

it ⎯⎯⎯ that’s where he draws a blank, and admittedly finds himself internally fumbling for the right reaction.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t find it, and opts to how he normally responds to anything else ;

forwardness.

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . Nevermind. Shut up. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍With nothing to lose, he’s the one that leans forward this time ⎯⎯⎯ closing the gap between them again. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ⎯⎯⎯ But he holds there just a few seconds longer. It’s not simple reciprocation, something he’s doing just to match the mood ; he holds there to get his message across, since words aren’t his strongsuit.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Once satisfied, he pulls away again, maintaining unbroken eye contact. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ “ . . . There’s my answer. ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

[wolfofpvrgatory]

“i need you.” - from Tohru

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It's unfair.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍If he knew that this is what he was in for, he'd have much rather stayed six feet under. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It was necessary, this ⎯⎯⎯ pretending to be dead, staying ` dead ` to everyone. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But no sane person would enjoy this. Monster or not.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Witnessing his father in a catatonic state made him wrought with pity, and something worse than that overtook him to witness how the Mutou family was affected as well.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He would often see Mutou Takeshi himself enter and exit his beer bottle ridden home to make sure his father was even still alive with the weight of his grief, and would further ensure he ate before leaving again.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He avoids seeing Tamotsu and Aoi at all costs.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But seeing Tohru — That's inevitable.

‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍If it's not his father at his house, then it's Tohru in his untouched room, sitting in a state similar to Yuuki's silence on Natsuno's bed. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍That, or he weeps into his sheets.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It makes his insides twist and curl uncomfortably to look into his home now, but he knows that if he doesn't, in some strange, unexplainable way, he will lose resolve.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Even if hearing ` please come back, ` ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍or

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍` I need you, `

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍consistently screws with his head badly enough for him to want to drop everything and reveal himself.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍But he can't.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He can't risk it. He can't risk them.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍So every day, like this, just like this, he stands outside his own room for maybe just an hour with his head pressed against the old wooden sill, and mentally pleads ;

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍“ Just forget me already. ”

[wolfofpvrgatory]

❛   abrupt .   kiss  my  muse  out  of  the  blue . - from Tohru

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The school day is rough, but Yuuki would honestly and truthfully argue that afterward is the rougher part. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It wasn't necessarily as though his home life was bad. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍His parents didn't argue, nor did they berate him. Nothing was amiss specifically with how they treated one another, and he would readily admit that it could be worse.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Regardless, he hated being there.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍He could not escape the glaring fact that they were an abnormal ` family ` in that home, and the silence that roamed the halls of what felt like an empty house made it all the more uncomfortable.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍So spun the same old constant story of him ending up spending the night in the Mutou home once again.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍( A house where a conventional ` family ` lived there. )

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The evening had passed fast there, four o'clock drawing to seven with ease. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍The hours prior, they'd been passing the controller to Tohru's gaming console back and forth. The goal was to reach a higher score than the other could each play, but of course, they'd screw around. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Natsuno would shove his arm. So on and so forth. Dirty tactics.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Seven sharp, Natsuno had finally beaten him, and with a wry quirk of his lip, he turned to look him in the eye. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍. . . At which moment, something he would have never expected occurred.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍“ Read it and wee ⎯⎯⎯

‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Mmph ⎯⎯⎯  ! ? ”

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍It takes more effort than Natsuno had ever put in to be able to process what’s happening, but slowly and surely, the pieces fall into place. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍There is a warmth against his lips.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍That warmth belonging to another set of lips.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍Those lips belonging to Mutou Tohru.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍What Natsuno could only describe as a small eternity passes. ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍⎯⎯⎯ Only because he couldn’t tell you the actual amount of time allotted between the start of this warmth and then when it leaves him.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍What was certain was the mark it leaves on him in its wake ; unable to properly think, his expression blank of anything, and the controller in his hands completely forgotten.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍In the state is was in, of course the response he actually is able to muster is graceless.

‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍  ‍‍‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ “ . . . What. ”