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knockyasocksoff2022 · 19 days ago

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Ideal No. 14

(3,541 words)

(Thank you so much to @fyodorsushankaaa and rikarikachrzan on Wattpad for getting me to update)

I hear Kunikida before I see him. His footsteps are heavier than usual today, and I hear him sipping something that smells like tea from a thermos as he comes in. I can't make myself look at him, but I don't need to know he's tired. Of course, he is. We worked until nearly 22:30 last night, and have been doing so for more than a month now.

I don't know why he stays. I'm not making him, and he's never been one to be petty (he is stubborn though, and I'd like to imagine he stays to look out for me, however moronic that may be.) It's against his Ideals to work so late, as he has mentioned many times before when criminals have kept us chasing them into the late hours. And yet, no matter what he claims, he is a man of duty (a man chained to duty), and no matter how late the call, he answers. I think perhaps, for the sake of his health, I will leave at a normal time today.

The thought of my antics affecting Kunikida's health even as I try my best to change fills me with guilt and shame that makes my stomach simmer. But I always greet him, and I cannot say nothing today, especially when Kunikida has been working so hard.

Looking up as if I just noticed him I greet him.

He pauses mid-motion, mug hovering over his desk, a confused look on his face. It occurrs to me belatedly that I used the wrong honorific for him. I have never called him 'san' in all the time I've known him, but today it reflects the guilt I feel. I have failed my duty as a colleague. I suppose manners are the least I could do after my failure with the bonito, even if he doesn't know it (or my sleepless nights are finally catching up to me.)

He unfreezes, setting his thermos on his desk, concern still on his face. "Yes, unpleasant indeed. Good morning to you as well, Dazai-kun. And, if I may ask, are you feeling alright?"

It's my turn to freeze. He noticed? I swear I made it impossible to tell, washed my face, and applied makeup (stolen from Yosano) to my eyebags. No one in the mafia was ever able to tell. But as always, I underestimated him and his goodness, or his pity. Curse him for being so observant. If this were before, I would simply snitch his glasses, but I could hardly do that now.

I put on my cheeriest voice and reassure him. It seems to satisfy him.

All through the morning he glances at me. He looks worried I'll go off like some bomb, maybe really kill myself and cause a mess for the agency, for him, to clean up.

I try to ignore it, the way I ignore the pain with each tap of my hand against the keyboard.

What a hassle.

(A/N: Nagi, is that you?)

"Come have lunch with me."

I drop my pen, startled by the voice. The clock reads 11:59 and Kunikida Doppo stands in front of my desk.

Is that the real Kunikida? And he's . . . asking me out?

I mentally slap myself for the train of thought. Of course not. He must have a case he wants to discuss. I relax my face as best I can, a grin now would do me no good. I shouldn't give him any further reason to suspect my feelings. But I feel my lips twitching despite the effort, my brain still high on the shot of hope. More powerful than any narcotic.

I think back on the words for a second. Kunikida's tone was firm, but kind as usual (it's only recently I've been receiving the kinder end of that spectrum), and his eyes, they look . . . desperate (but that can't be right)?

Did he notice my deep fatigue the way I noticed his? He mentioned it earlier. Yes, that's all this is. I can calm myself. He's just being polite

"Kunikida-kun?" I question. Has he been hit over the head (at least maybe then he would love me, though again, that's a selfish thought)? I know my confusion must come across as patronising, but it's better that way, better if I drive him away. I can't take any more of his shallow niceties. He steps back (pity, I was admiring his eyes).

I'm about to remind him I have my own lunch when I remember my lunch was supposed to be the fish that wound up on the floor. He speaks before I can feed him my lie.

His expression is frazzled for a second, like a computer on the fritz (he's probably taken time to think and realised how little he actually likes the idea of eating with me. An easy out for me. I can pretend it's painless.) "I don't mean to overstep, I merely meant that I noticed you forgot your lunch today, and if you like, I can buy you something. We, of course, would not eat together. That would be highly unnecessary." he assures me with an emphatic shake of his head.

Of course not.

He thinks he's reassuring me. I want to puke.

My heart sinks. I didn't think it was possible for it to slip any lower, any deeper into my chest, for it to feel any colder. I keep my face polite and neutral, matching his. Like him, I put on shallow niceties, pressing my fingers together, letting the pain ground me.

"Thank you, Kunikida-kun. That's very nice of you, but I couldn't make you spend your money on me." The words are ridiculous. How many times have I taken advantage of his wallet, even when I have my own funds?

How stupid I must seem to you. Now that he's finally asking me to lunch I say no, but I didn't want it to be like this. I always thought that I'd take him up, no matter how he wanted it to be genuine

"No. It's no trouble. It would be my treat."

That makes no sense, he loves working. What is he saying? Does he have a fever? Why is he being so insistent? It almost sounds like he- No. No, don't even dare to get your hopes up Dazai Osamu.

"A colleague helping out a colleague, nothing more."

Because just like that he sends them crashing back down again.

I feel heavy, by making myself nod, always respectful. I know I won't be able to handle eating with him, and I shouldn't make him go out of his way for me. Ah, how dare he feed my fantasies with things like this? "Well, in that case. Thank you, Kunikida-kun. You're such a kind colleague, but there's no need for you to go anywhere with me. I'll order something and go get it myself."

Kunikida pauses, considering my offer then, I can't fathom why, but he narrows his eyes with doubt and suspicion, the way he used to when I'd swear I hadn't eaten mushrooms. I can't describe the relief the expression brings. I'd give anything to see it now, give anything for him to scold and slap me after these weeks of nothing, nothing, and more nothing.

(A/N: AyO!)

"True, but we've both been in the office so much lately. I could use a change of pace. Couldn't you? We haven't been to that tea house in a while, the one we took Atsushi to that day. It's an efficiently drivable distance and has economical prices."

What? How dare he? How dare he do this? There's no way he knows, still, how can he be so casually cruel?

I can't look at him, it hurts. My whole body hurts. It almost numbs out the pain of my hand. But I've got to say something.

I glance across the room to where our juniors sit, piled around Atsushi's desk. Perfect! I can't be alone with Kunikida, my heart couldn't take it, but this should be perfectly fine if it's a group outing, then maybe I'll be able to stop imagining that it's a date.

"Hmm, excellent idea, Kunikida-kun. I am finished with my morning work so we can make it an outing. Let's bring Atsushi-kun."

Kunikida turns, following my gaze to Atsushi. I focus on his hair, he's easier to look at from the back, just those well-built shoulders, not his piercing grey eyes tearing apart my soul.

Shaking my head I start to get Atsushi's attention, but Kunikida turns around before I can, his eyes on me again, making the words die in my mouth.

"He seems busy. We shouldn't bother him. "

The words are so sudden that I'm not sure what to say. Atsushi doesn't look busy at all, and he loves food almost as much as Kenji. Does he have a case I'm unaware of? What's going on? Is Kunikida planning another intervention? Is that why he wants me alone? But usually, he gets the whole agency together for those. And I've made myself look fine. Does he suspect? What should I do?

Ah, he's staring again. I shouldn't make him question me further.

" . . . Ah, right."

Seemingly satisfied with my answer he turns and begins to walk purposefully towards the door, with his usually timely pace. This is only a mission for him. Charity work. Make sure the poor sod doesn't starve.

And now I have no choice but to face him alone. And of course, I'm in far too deep not to go.

As we pass the coat stand I think about the weather outside. The clouds signal inevitable rain. I should take it, but the thought of putting it on with my injured hand isn't appealing. Getting dressed this morning was hard enough and it didn't hurt half as much then. I think I can feel it seeping something so I shove the thought away and keep walking.

Kunikida turns back as my foot hits the first stair. He looks me up and down, then out the window and back at me again.

"Don't you need your coat?"

I'm caught. What can I say that won't reveal my disgusting failure of an injury? For once, I thank Mori. At least that man taught me how to lie.

Acting is my speciality. I do it nearly all day now. This will be a breeze.

"Oh. Well, you're driving, so we'll be inside most of the time. Do you not have an umbrella?" The question is innocent, dripping with manipulation. Can he sense it, I wonder? Does he have any idea of how deeply he's being deceived?

But unlike for some, the thought doesn't bring me giddy, it just brings guilt, guilt, and shame. I can't look at him again. I watch the reflection in his glasses, just close enough to his eyes to fool him.

Maybe he does notice because I'd swear he hesitates, but, of course, I'm wrong. Kunikida Doppo never hesitates.

"No, of course. I suppose it's fine then."

The wind is bitter when we leave the safety of the office, but Kunikida's car is warm, the beige interior comforting instead of boring as I used to say.

The tea house is exactly as I remember it. My, how much has changed since then.

Kunikida retrieves the promised umbrella from the side door, opens his door, and puts it up. It strikes me just how small it is. Of course, it is, he's a single man who prides himself on efficiency in all areas of life, including space, and with no time for romance, why would he have a larger umbrella?

The gentlemanly thing to do would be to let him have it to himself, but the cold is already seeping into my bones, despite the car still running, and I'm too selfish. Like some sort of stalker striving for any chance to be close to him. What a creep!

He looks between the car and the restaurant as if mirroring my thoughts, but eventually turns the key, shutting the engine and plunging me into the cold.

I nearly pass out when I see him crossing to my side of the car, (or maybe that's just the pain). He should make me walk. I blink when he opens my door. The umbrella looks even smaller from here and I hate the way it makes my heart pound (or maybe that's just my head). But I can't just stand here looking stupid, so with a breath, I get up and join him.

I'm sure anyone watching us would laugh at the miserable sight. One of our shoulders each is getting soaked. How selfish can I be when Kunikida is already looking run down? What kind of person would I be if I let him catch a chill?

I try to move farther, but it's awkward. My hand aches from being pressed so close to my side and the pain travels like flames liking up my arm.

As we near the entrance a horrible thought occurs to me. The door. I won't be able to open it at the recessed angle with my dominant hand so tightly bandaged. The thought shouldn't be so devastating and yet, it is. I can't help it. That was one of the small ways in which I could redeem myself, and now . . . nothing.

I fall back, feeling the rain on my neck, and let him lead. I don't deserve to be near him. Maybe if he's in front he'll just open it himself. How awful.

But, of course not, he expects it, as he should.

We stand there in agony for a second. Me, literally and him, I'm not sure, but the awkwardness must kill him too on some level. That doesn't make me feel any better.

With a stiff grin, he opens the door, huffing in annoyance.

The shop is even warmer than the car, the lights are warm and homely, but the waitress gives me a wary look as I enter. I can't stand it, so I look down, trailing Kunikida like some sad lost child.

When we reach the counter, Kunikida trunks to me. I force my heavy head up to look at him. His wallet is out, a nice leather thing.

"What would you like?" His voice is stiff too, and he's not quite looking at me either. I can tell because he isn't as good at it as me. I don't complain. I deserve it and it's the only way facing him is bearable.

I can see the umbrella sharing made him uncomfortable too. Selfish, Is should've just brought my coat like a normal person. Now he's all wet.

I can't take it . . . so I do what I always do, make everything a joke, like some miserable jester. "Oh, surprise me."

It comes out flirtatious because of course, it does. How could it not when my heart pounds at the sight of him? Still, it was unprofessional. I hope the waitress doesn't think we're together. She'll probably gossip about seeing someone like me with someone like Kunikida. I turn before I can see his reaction, running away as usual. I pick the booth farthest from the counter.

The table is solid, a nice contrast when I feel separate from my physical body. At least this table is never confused about what plane it's on. I lean my weight into it. Even though the air-con unit is blowing hot air, I shiver.

A waitress comes to the table with two cups of hot green tea. She has the kind of smile that reminds me of a mother. Not my mother, of course, but how a mother should be.

"You and your boyfriend, enjoy now."

My heart nearly stops. My chest feels tight. Despite the air I can feel in my lungs it feels like I've stopped breathing. I sputter. " . . . W-we will."

I take a sip of the tea as she leaves, struggling to lift it in my non-dominant hand. It nearly spills so I put it down after a singular burning sip.

Just as I put it down, Kunikida comes back.

He sits down without a word. He can't even bear to talk to me.

I force myself to sip my tea, just for something to do. He does the same. It's like our conversation lately but without words.

Suddenly he puts his tea down.

"Dazai-san,"

Oh. When he says my full name like that. Oh. It takes all the pain away.

"I'm sorry to have forced you to come here, I shouldn't have. This is unprofessional. I'll drive us back as soon as the food arrives. Let me go and see if they'll put in takeaway boxes."

Leaving? Already? Has he had enough of me so quickly, after he insisted? The idea sucks the air from my chest.

"What?" The word slips out. I didn't mean it, but I can't take it back.

"You look extremely uncomfortable." He explains.

Oh no. Has he realised? But I don't want to leave. I can't not yet, I need just a little more. Please.

"Oh, no. I'm just cold. You're right I should have brought my coat. I forgot because we haven't been here in so long. It's sooo nice to be back, isn't it? It feels like only yesterday we bought our little were-tiger all that chazuke, no? Oh, Ku~ni~ki~da~ don't you miss the olden days, everything was so much easier back then. " The clownery hurts but the thought of losing precious time with Kunikida is worse.

I can see he isn't fooled. How could I? He's always seen through my bullshit, some of it, at least.

"Dazai, what is it?" He's worried. Like I'm someone he has to look after. He'll never see me as an equal.

So I give him what he expects. My 'usual' clownish façade.

"What is what? Has Kunikida finally gone mad from all the stress?"

He frowns, a huff slipping from his lips despite his efforts to remain calm. It's sort of hot in a weird way.

"The game is up, Dazai Osamu, be serious with me. I'll know if you aren't. What is going on?" He's leaning across the table, commanding me. As attractive as that would be, he's not stupid. I know he's getting close to the chink in my armor, and I can't let that happen.

I'm going to have to gaslight him, like the horrid wreck of a man I am.

"Nothing, Kunikida-kun, you're being paranoid." Because That's what I always do, insult people and drive them away.

"Do not insult me." But he doesn't sound as angry as someone in his position should be. I can't figure it out. He leans closer, still.

What to say? What to say? Between the sleep deprivation, the pain and his close proximity my thoughts blur. "I- You are the one who coerced me into lunch, Kunikida-kun." I regret it as soon as the words are out. Suggesting that he'd asked me out, despite how his request sounded, would only offend him further, pushing him away from me. And I can see that he doesn't want to be here anyway. Maybe I should just get up and leave. (My head's so light I don't know if I can).

"I am sorry, we can leave when you tell me what's wrong with you." His voice breaks. He means it. How dare he? How dare he be so concerned only as a colleague? Why does it have to be pity? Why can't his concern mean something more? I hate being delusional.

And now I have no choice but to go back to being a clown.

"What's wrong with me? Why that's quite a long list you see. It all started when I was a very young boy of only six and-"

He cuts me off. I'm almost relieved. "Stop joking around!"

The words slip out like water out of a frozen and thawed pipe, uncontrollable, but expected. So deep in the lie that they don't feel like mine. "What's wrong with you, Kunikida-kun?"

He looks hurt, wounded, caught. I hate myself. But, ever calm, collected, perfect, he fixes his expression quickly.

"What's wrong with me? Nothing! I am fine. It's you that's–

But he's not in control anymore. He's upset, a feeling I tend to bring out in people. His arm flails for emphasis, knocking my tea cup. The hot tea seeps through my bandages, burning my hand once more.

Kunikida gasps.

I don't want to look. I can't look. I know I have to look.

My hand is soaked in red, the crimson shade of self-loathing.

When I look up, I wish I didn't. His expression sends a wave of ice through my veins. It's a look I've only seen once before . . . when I almost succeeded in my life's mission.

It was a year ago. Some girl I made myself fancy ended her life and I thought I ought to follow her, just to get rid of the feeling of wanting but not being wanted back.

I caused such a mess that he searched all over the city until he found me in an abandoned mafia-safe house. It was a miracle the hospital had the antidote to what I bought off this thug, honestly. I'm not even sure what I took, but it must've been one of the few poisons I haven't built up resistance to.

When he carried me in his arms like that, that was it, I think, the moment I really fell in love with him. How tragic.

Outside my mind, it feels like time has slowed. Kunikida lunges across the table, grabbing my hand faster than I can pull the sluggish limb away

What now?

IDEALS [kunikidazai]

(A/N: I've been palying around with ship names for these two and came up with Ideal Human because together these two make one perfectly functioning person. Kind of like how Tachizaki is Midwinter Snow because if their abilities)

SUMMARY:

Dazai Osamu is the farthest possible thing from the ideal woman Kunikida Doppo has written so much about in his notebook.

And yet . . . Kunikida is hoplessly in love with him anyway. Kunikida doesn't belive he has a chance with his coworker, I mean, have you seen the way he flirts with women? Straight as the rulers Kunikida used to use in his maths class.

Dazai meanwhile is also inlove with uptight but still charming coworker. But how can Dazai ever come close to the woman Kunikida has in mind?

Will these two damn idiots figure their shit out or not? God, I hope they do, for all our sanity!

(Summary sponsered by Edogawa Ranpo)

Categories: angst, fluff, getting together

Warnings: N/A

Thank you to @wildroseroguefor inspiring me to write Kunikidazai for the first time. Rose has lots of Kunikida content on her blog, check it out.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #kunikidazai #kunidazai #Ideal Human #No Longer Ideal #knkdz #kunikidazai fic #kunikidazai fanfiction #kunikidazai fanfic #kunikidazai angst #kunidazai fanfic #kunikidazai fluff #kunidazai fic #kunidazai fanfiction #kunidazai fluff #kunidazai angst

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kaisa-ryo · 3 years ago

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Attention deficit (pt. 1)

jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Itadori Yuji, Satoru Gojo, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Sukuna Ryōmen, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

Itadori Yuji

Itadori in this situation acts, oddly enough, completely primitive. The less attention he sees from you, the more he tries to get him back. In other circumstances, this might even seem exaggerated, but here and now this is the most critical moment. What does he do? Yes, everything in a row: drops the book, turns its pages, rummages in the bag, humming softly to himself, and so on ... And all this continues until it comes to stroking the hips and lightly squeezing one palm, while the other rewrites the abstract ...

- I miss the old y/n. - he gives out with sadness in his eyes.

At this moment, the game of interest begins: you feel how simultaneously there is a feeling of spontaneous and purposeful manipulation, how you are gently and imperceptibly pushed towards the long-awaited goal.

In such a situation, one could easily succumb, but you, resisting this, answer:

- Yuji, I'm very busy right now.

It would seem that a strong guy fights curses, trains with the strongest shamans, but with ordinary words it is so easy to break.

It's hard for you to realize that right now he is depressed because of you. It's unusual to see a sad Yuji almost always smiling and making others do the same. Especially you.

And so you compromise, intertwining your fingers, frowning slightly and pretending to listen to something inside yourself ... After that, Yuji remains in this position for a long time, as if afraid to frighten you off, because now such closeness between you is too valuable to miss out.

Satoru Gojo

It turns out that sometimes even acting like a fool doesn't help you pay attention to Gojo. First, the way you constantly focus on the same thing, so that the words in your speech get confused, takes on a comic character, and he comes to the idea that, for no reason, for no reason, you decided that work is more important to you than himself. Then you stop paying attention to him altogether. You no longer look at him from under your brows, do not frown at the idiotic jokes with which he is trying to distract you, as it was yesterday. Satoru notices that you are much smaller. He is puzzled and even confused. Finally, it occurs to him that you just have nothing to do, and comes up with the craziest idea to entertain you.

- What are you doing? - a voice of a man sounded nearby, who had been watching you with interest for some time.

There was no answer. However, it is not surprising.

- Okay, okay, you don't have to answer... - He looked away.

This was his usual technique. After asking several meaningless questions, he suddenly fell silent, as if giving you the opportunity to think over the answer properly, and he himself imperceptibly removed, leaving you in complete confusion. But this time, due to the circumstances, the technique had to be slightly changed.

In the next moment, he was already pressing you to him and, taking advantage of this, with his other hand began to explore the curves of your body. The reaction was as if you were doused with boiling water or doused with cold water.

- What are you doing? - You asked in a trembling voice.

- Checking to see if you got fat after we lost sex. - still clinging to you, he answered. You were taken aback and began to push him away from you.

- I have not grown fat, let me go! You barked, feeling his arms tighten. - Let go! Fool! Let go!

Hands rested on your back, and he began to rock you slowly, stretching the moment when you finally stop resisting.

- It's okay, y/n. You just need to calm down. - he whispered, not hearing your words.

There is a mess in my head, the goal of your resistance has fled somewhere, and you start desperately hugging the man while he grins at the fact that he managed to do what he wanted.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is not one of those who will behave like a child, attracting attention to herself when you do not even know the reason for her loss. He will speak to you as soon as he notices it.

- Do you want to talk about it?

You rub your eyes with fatigue, but you shouldn't ignore Fushiguro's question, because it concerns the two of you. No matter how serious his intentions are, he will always be there to remind you that you can talk to him about what worries you.

- I... will hardly give any good advice, but I will try to make it easier for you after the conversation. Megumi continues after a minute of your silence.

Even such a seemingly small detail as being able to talk to someone else significantly reduces stress and other not-so-good emotions. And the guy knows it.

- You can always count on my help. - already with a drop of confidence he says, and it's like the touch of a soft, pleasant hand on your shoulder. Of course, he does this primarily because he is worried, but this is only a secret cover for the fact that he is upset that you turned away from him, without noticing the real reason.

"Fushiguro, if I do this, I don't know... I... will feel like this..." The words elude you. It’s hard to even think about what you’ll say next.

The guy spreads his arms to give you room to hug and apologize, but you just put your head on his shoulder. You don't want to talk about anything else. The chest against which your head is pressed turns into a pillow. And then a quiet voice is heard:

- I'm not mad at you. You can stay here as long as you like.

But here you won't need anything as long as Fushiguro is around.

Inumaki Toge

Not surprisingly, the first thought that comes to him is "it's all because of the damned speech."

Does he talk to you too little? Maybe he is too quiet and invisible for you? Perhaps you are afraid that someday he will take control of you? From such questions echoing in my head, my jaws come together and a lump appears in my throat. But the worst thing is that Toge begins to doubt his right to meet with you, because he cannot even talk to you with dignity, as a person to a person. Even your sweet persistence, which sometimes breaks through the boundaries of ordinary attempts to turn the conversation back on track, does not help. As a result, when it comes to your attention deficit, he begins to think that all this time you did not notice him, as if he was one of those whom you forgot on the first day.

- Okaka? - the young man has been trying to attract your attention with his eyes for a long time, but it seems that even words cannot help.

- Sorry, Toge. I'm not in the mood today...

The guy was actually a perfectionist and would rather have your smile shine every day. I wish he could turn back time right now, scroll to the moment when something went wrong and fix it at any cost.

Inumaki tucked a lock of your hair behind his ear to see your face behind it. He knew you had flawless skin and plump, sensual lips. He would admire your face for hours.

The next second, the blond rested his head on your lap, looking into your eyes. You liked such cute things from him. They weren't vulgar or inappropriate. They were what she needed.

You smile faintly and stroke the hair on the back of his head, touching his cheek with your fingertips.

Sukuna Ryōmen

This is the case when Sukuna uses passive aggression. Slightly wrong, some small sign of ignorance - his speech turns into direct pressure on your relationship with him. He can really hurt you a lot if you don't appreciate his efforts to make you even a little happier. Most often they are small and insignificant, the kind that anyone would do, but for the King of Curses, this is really something grandiose. And since he has many ways to destroy your relationship, if you think he made a mistake, remember how it hurts him.

- Will you ignore me again? - Sukun asked with imperious anger, the last pieces of despair were dying in his soul. - And where is your mercy? If I have become disgusting to you, why do you continue to need me?

There was nothing to answer. It was not pride that tormented him at all, but an ever-deeper regret that with your equanimity you just caused another outbreak of rage in him. Most of all, the thought that you, perhaps, does not even notice it, and your eyes clouded with pain glide over something that is very dear to him, terrified him.

The dead silence continued, and my chest ached more and more. Then there was a soft groan:

- Y/n, I love you.

Tears ran down your cheeks, but did not brush them away with my hand. You knew it wasn't going to help. Bitter emotions generated by the word "love" are not able to be burned out on the face, like the sun on clay. You can't stop feeling. And all the same, looking at you was as painful as seeing your motionless glazed gaze.

He hugged you from the back as soon as he felt that you were repenting. Like the time you forgave him for calling you your own. He had strong hands - you can be sure. He was very gentle. You felt less pain. Maybe in the future it will be difficult for him to remember this, but now he tightly squeezed you in his arms and was so affectionate that you wanted him to never let you go.

Nanami Kento

He begins to suspect that something is wrong very early. First, morning kisses disappeared somewhere before leaving for work, then sincere conversations at the table, and then completely short meetings with glances. Moreover, the last remnants of intimacy are gone. Nanami began to think that something had happened to you. He always tried to protect you from any problems. And so you found yourself right in front of him, so closed and detached, he could not so easily take away the comfort and peace that he had been creating for so long and skillfully. And first of all, of course, he will lend you a helping hand to make it easier for you as quickly as possible.

A perplexed look will appear from under dark eyelashes after a man touches your forehead with his palm. It seems that the whole thing is not about health.

- You don't have a fever. He began.

- I know, thanks.

But Kento was clearly hinting at something.

- So what's up? - then you know what Nanami means. But she said nothing.

- Y/n, I do not want to impose anything on you, I just need to know what is happening to you so that our relationship with you does not suddenly go downhill.

The man took your hand and brought it to his lips. Nanami felt that if he said something now, he would commit tactlessness. And so he was silent, waiting for your answer.

- Sorry... - Tears began to burn my eyes. - I am very, very ashamed. I... it's just hard for me now, but it will pass by itself. I'm sure.

You pressed as tightly as possible to the man, hugged him and buried your face in the chest. He put his hand on your head encouragingly. I already didn't care about the problem as a whole. Now for you there was only what you felt - his soft stroking, the smell of a strong male body, warmth and care, and there was nothing but that.

Suguru Geto

He will take it calmly, without intention. But she won't ignore it. Often he will offer tea or something else, just to get at least one word out of you, in an attempt to bring you into conversation. He will not touch you without asking, because he knows about the value of personal space. And yet, for a while, it can fiddle with spontaneous statements in order to simply take away the soul and break a long silence.

- I see your day is going well... - Geto smiles with restraint. - Lots of news for me?

Guessing that he is once again trying to create a dialogue between you was almost nothing. But you are, of course, silent.

- I see. - Suguru sits down next to you, as close to your side as possible, not giving a damn if you don't like it.

- Maybe I offended you in some way? - he continues. - Or are you just not too open in your thoughts?

- Nothing. It's okay. - you throw.

- But it seems to me that no. - he takes your hand in his, as if trying to make you smile. “I think you have something to tell me, don’t you? He raises his eyebrows, expecting your reaction. Instead of answering, you grimace with a shrug. Suguru repeats the question:

- So what happened? Why don't you want to share your thoughts with me?

- What would you like? You ask. - Would you be happy to know that there is a perfect girl with great manners, beautiful and intelligent, whom you deserve?

To be honest, Suguru did not expect such an answer. You can see that he is a little dumbfounded, but quickly comes to his senses. And then he starts laughing - so sweet and sincere that you start to feel embarrassed and blush with shame.

- And I was already expecting something more terrible. He laughs. - Okay, be it your way. I'm not a particularly sentimental person. I do not know what to say.

- Tell me you feel terribly in love. - grabbing his wrist, you say.

The brunette makes a startled face again. But you do not retreat - you hold him for a few more seconds, forcing him to surrender. - Only from the bottom of my heart ...

- Y/n, I feel terribly in love with you and will never fall in love again next time. So? He asked, grinning.

Wiping away the tears of happiness, you hugged him without words, while he, hugging you with one hand, exhaled with relief.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

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maplecornia · 3 years ago

Text

chapter 30

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.85K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: another yoongles focus lol i just figured out that i really don't have much to say in these things anymore, i might save the a/n's for the end next time

This is not exactly how you expected to meet Min Yoongi.

His hand tightens around your wrist as he drags you through the halls of BigHit, and you silently pray that your small legs can keep up.

Looking up at him, you can't help but be a bit confused.

Why is he so angry anyway?

You didn't do anything to him.

Certainly nothing worth yanking your arms off.

Wincing as he turns a corner, your eyes widen as he opens a door and practically shoves you inside a dark room. You stumble a bit, an inner instinct inside of you resurfacing. You find yourself frantically looking for any form of exit, any form of a way out. When you find none, you swallow hard, feeling your hands palpitate with cold sweat and your breathing run short. Turning briskly to where Yoongi stands in front of the door, you step forward, ready to push past him and bolt before you’re hurt, but the look in his eyes stops you.

They’re soft, confused and slightly caught off guard. You wonder if the fear that prickles off of your skin is as evident to him as it is to you. Taking a deep breath, you swallow hard, trying hard not to show your discomfort. Inwardly, you chastise yourself for even considering that Min Yoongi would have any malicious intent towards you, but you can't help it when put into a situation like this...

Dark room.

Blocked exits.

No way of escape.

You can't help but be on your guard.

A bit confused, but choosing not to question it, Yoongi gestures towards a clothing rack to the left. Blinking, you turn towards it, begging yourself to relax. When he advances into the room, however, you flinch and frantically back up, straight into a tray of forgotten makeup and hair products.

He immediately stops at the reaction, and you downcast your eyes shamefully praying he doesn’t realize what you’ve tried so hard to cover up. However, as he takes in your frightened eyes, tense stance, and the shallow breath, he knows that somehow he has triggered a memory.

From the looks of it, even a form of trauma.

Definitely not what I expected.

Taking a deep breath, he turns on the light before turning to you with his hands up in a form of surrender. Almost a peace treaty. "Relax, I'm just trying to get a shirt for you."

You swallow hard, already feeling a bit better with the light on. Chuckling nervously, you straighten and nod, running your hand through your hair.

"O-of course you were. What else would you be doing?" you try to swallow the sudden rise of bile in your throat as you rub your arms violently to ease the chill your memories have brought you.

Yeah.

What else indeed.

Confused, but choosing to leave matters out of his hand alone, Yoongi returns to his task and rummages through the clothes dangling on the coat rack. Once he's found his prize, he turns to you and throws it towards you. Your eyes widening, you hardly catch it before he's already heading out of the door.

"Shirt." He explains bluntly, and you nod, a bit surprised that he used English. You smile inwardly at the sentiment, however. The small taste of home certainly helped you to regain your composure. You give a weak smile and tighten your grip around the shirt, hoping that it would be a better outlet to release the emotions bottled inside.

"Thank you." You murmur, and he nods before turning to leave.

He almost makes it out the door, but when he remembers something, he turns back to you.

"Do you know the way back?"

"Back...?" you mutter, a bit confused, and he rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to smile.

Looks like she's back to normal.

"To the dressing room, you're supposed to help us with the photo shoot today." Your eyes widen at his explanation, and you faintly remember your soiled schedule. Cursing under your breath, you wish you had at least taken a picture of the thing before heading to perform your duties. Maybe then you'd have a backup.

Well, guess that's a good thing to remember next time.

Realizing Yoongi is still waiting for a reply, you snap out of your reverie and smile.

"Oh, yes. I think I can manage." He nods before turning around and finally leaving you alone, the door closing with a few words of encouragement.

"Hurry up."

With that, the door is shut firmly behind him and you let out a small breath.

Well, no need to be so cold.

But then again, it was kind of him to offer you a shirt and not to pry when you had that slight panic attack. If you can even call it that. Sighing, you turn to the mirror and place your hands on the desk, staring deep into your hollow eyes.

It wasn't always this way.

There was a time when these eyes sparkled with life. When they were filled with joy and happiness, not a care in the world. Where you could smile without a weight on your heart dragging you down. Where you could live without feeling guilty of it.

Why do you feel guilty?

He deserved what he got.

He deserved to die for what he did to you.

“But still...he was my father.”

Biting your bottom lip, you hardly notice it as your teeth pierce through your skin and blood begins to trickle down your chin. Only when the taste of iron on your tongue pierces through do you realize. Flinching, you shakily wipe the blood away and lick your bottom lip as though that will erase the pain bound tightly to your heart.

No, nothing can erase this.

I don't think anything ever will.

Swallowing hard, you choose to forget that which is best not to be pondered over. Turning the shirt Yoongi found for you, you slowly unbutton your own, pulling it out of the plaid skirt you've garnered today. You're thankful Yoongi has managed to find you a similar shirt to the one you brought in today. A white button-up that reminds you of the 19th century. Something a high-class man would wear to a gala per se. You smirk at the ruffles at the end of your sleeves and try to avoid your reflection in the mirror as you pull it on over your bra.

The only thing you would see would be another daily dose of self-deprecation and hatred.

You'd rather stop before it started.

Once the shirt is buttoned and tucked safely in your skirt, a few small touches added by you in order to fit your look, you look at your reflection and smile faintly. For a man's shirt, it fits your frame quite snugly. You wonder who exactly it belongs to, but figure you could just ask Yoongi later.

This should do nicely.

Smiling weakly in satisfaction, you turn to the door and open it.

You weren't expecting to see a very fatigued Yoongi leaning against the wall right next to the entrance. So you'd say your reaction was justified.

He would probably think otherwise.

At your shriek, he jumps halfway out of the air before turning to you in surprise.

"What the hell was that?!" He cries, and your eyes widen in ignorance.

"Me?! What about you? I thought you were going back to the dressing room!"

"Well, I--" he breaks off, finding nothing to say, and you raise an eyebrow in confusion. Swallowing hard, he turns his face away from you. "You were taking too long."

Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

Sorry, but I didn't think I was on a time clock.

"Besides, I didn't trust you to get there on your own." He explains, turning back to you with a scowl. You narrow your eyes at him yourself before noticing the slight rosy hue to his cheeks.

Is he...embarrassed?

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head before brushing past you and heading back the way you came.

"Let's go."

You stand there in stunned silence before turning to his retreating figure. Smirking a bit to yourself, you scoff in disbelief before jogging to catch up to him. You want to thank him for his help, but as the two of you head back, you find it hard to start a conversation with him.

Biting the inside of your cheek you turn to him, trying to study his expression.

He definitely has some sort of hidden animosity towards you even though the two of you have never met before now. However, he doesn't seem to hate you. He's been kind to you so far. In his own...weird way. But if he doesn't hate you then what's the reason for his behavior? Sometimes he seems perfectly fine, and then others he seems to be incredibly angry by your presence.

Then again...your presence is sort of foreign to him.

Maybe he just needs time warming up?

"She's hardly qualified."

Or maybe...

He knows you don't belong here.

"Do you need something?"

Jolting back to reality, you blink and find Yoongi to be regarding you with a perplexed gaze. Quickly, you snatch your eyes away and laugh nervously. You hadn't realized you were gawking at him this whole time.

"No, it's nothing..."

His expression changes as soon as you look away, darkens into something nearly unrecognizable. Turning away, he swallows hard, as though holding himself back. You, however, find this as a perfect outlet to start a conversation.

"I was just...wondering...W-why are you doing the shoot here?"

He shrugs, trying to avoid your gaze as much as possible.

"It's more convenient this way. Does the shirt fit?"

"Hm? Oh! Uhm, yes it does. Thank you."

He nods in response.

"Good, that was Enhypen's dressing room. They hardly use it other than the times they visit our company for shoots and such. Sunoo has a smaller build than most in our company so I thought it'd work best for you." He examines the shirt on you, and you can't help but blush, half wondering if you should cover-up. "Hm. It's tight in some areas but definitely better than wearing something like Jimin's."

You blush profusely at the comment and cross your arms around your chest. You have half a mind to smack him right then and there, but as a group of employees pass by you, you're forced to hold back. He smirks in satisfaction at your reaction, and you scowl.

"I see...thank you." You mutter between gritted teeth. He doesn't respond, just continues to smile that smug smile. Turning the corner, you find yourself in another realm of silence, but this time you don't really have the urge to talk to him.

He on the other hand...

"Has BangPD talked to you yet?"

Your ears perk at that and you turn to him, shocked.

How did he...

"I'm sorry?"

"About being a trainee." He replies with that debonair air about him. Swallowing hard, it takes you a while to respond.

“How did you know?” He gives a look at the ambiguous answer, but you meet it as an equally indignant one. You feel as though you have a right to know, and you won’t answer him so easily about something you weren’t aware he even knew about. Sighing when it’s clear you won’t give in as easily as he thought, he answers you.

“BangPD met with us to discuss your training.”

“‘Us?’ You mean...”

“Yes, BTS. He said as shareholders of the company, it was only right for us to know he was considering training you. He wanted our opinion.”

In short, they were deciding your life before you even had a chance to decide.

You don’t know why, but the thought puts a sick feeling in your stomach. The fact that a group of people were discussing whether or not to trust you, to accept you without even half of them getting a chance to know you or your abilities...Who gave them the right to decide that? Who gave them the right to take control of your future?

And what if you say yes? Do they even want you to succeed? What if they do? What if saying no let down their expectations? Why weren’t you told about this? Why weren’t you a part of the conversation?

Was it really too much of a risk?

"So?" He prompts before pausing in front of an elevator door and pressing the up button to the dressing room. "What did you say?"

You give him a look, hoping that will let him know that you don't want to talk about this anymore, but he doesn't seem to care. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly and you find that even if you wanted to, you wouldn't know what to say.

Does he think that this is an easy decision? There are things to consider, your future to think about, people who could be affected...

But really, what is there to consider?

You don't have anything to lose, not really.

And this is your dream.

So why are you hesitating?

You know why.

At the soft ding of the elevator arriving, you break eye contact and turn as the doors open. Stepping inside, you watch the doors slide shut before answering him.

"He told me to think about it."

Yoongi scoffs at the answer, biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance. He knew it'd be like this.

"What's there to think about?" At the question, you flinch but refuse to meet his eyes. "It's a yes or no question."

You bite your lip furiously, at war with yourself.

It's not like he's wrong but...

Yoongi glances at her from the corner of his eye and wonders what exactly everyone sees in her. He wonders what makes her so special. From what he's seen, she's incredibly ordinary. Sure she has a beautiful voice, her face is nice, but she can stand to lose a few pounds especially if she wants to be an idol.

Does she even want to be a performer?

There are so many others who have tried their whole life just to be considered for what they're offering here, and what?

It's too hard of a decision?

Animosity growing like a drug, he scoffs turning away.

"I was against it, you know." You turn to him, a bit confused at the statement. He sighs before continuing, a bit piqued at your behavior. "Your contract. I didn't want you to be considered as a trainee."

You should feel surprised. You should feel wronged, angry. But you feel none of those things. Instead, you understand him.

Smiling a bit bitterly, you turn back to the metal doors.

"I see." You reply, and he turns to you in confusion.

"You're not mad?" You shrug before turning to him.

"Why would I be?" He scoffs at the reply.

"Most would feel offended."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, I'm grateful."

Surprised, he turns to you. "Why?"

"At least you didn't lie or cover it up." You explain matter of factly and he shakes his head at you in disbelief as the elevator dings, announcing your arrival.

"It would've been better if I had." He mutters half to himself as the two of you depart, bowing politely to a few employees waiting to board the elevator. You shrug at the statement before glancing his way.

"Well, maybe I don't like people who beat around the bush."

He can't help but feel a bit stunned as he watches you walk a few steps ahead of him. He can't help but feel that he'll always be a few steps behind you. Shaking the feeling away, he peers your way.

"Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Debuting."

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer. Biting your bottom lip in concentration you consider the question.

Are you scared to debut?

"Yes."

Who wouldn't be after all? It's scary not knowing if the public will view you positively or immediately cast you aside. It's scary not knowing whether or not your dream will be achieved, whether or not you'll make it.

"Is that why you're hesitating?"

Spying the dressing room a few feet away, you shake your head at his question before replying.

"No."

You can deal with that fear...but what you're even more afraid of is betrayal.

Like what happened last time.

Yoongi stares at you for a moment and watches as you get that faraway look in your eye, the same look that tells him you're not really here. When the two of you reach the dressing room once again, he can't help but pause a few feet away from you. He has the sudden urge just to look at you, maybe then he'd be able to understand.

"You're not what I thought you were." He mutters, not sure if you can hear him, but at your smile, he knows you never stopped listening. You smile at him over your shoulder.

"I guess I don't like beating around the bush either."

𝔞/𝔫: i feel like this offers a lot of background to yen's past...which may be revealed soon

chapter 31 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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