#harumasa angst

[tinum]

Memento Vivere - Harumasa x Reader (Angst)

Summary: Harumasa's death and everything that comes after it. Warnings: CHARACTER DEATH, possible errors, maybe ooc Word Count: 1.6k Notes: the plot hole is actually filled with hidden lore about the reader guys! It's totally intentional, trust me! Thanks to the anon who requested!! ill work on it ASAP <3 okay, i think i did pretty good on this one but i really struggled with the ending tho. Let me know what you think.

The beginning. To every start, there must be an end. No matter how gently you stretch a rubber band, it is bound to break. What can not be cured must be endured, and what is endured succumbs with you.

Harumasa lays in your arms, his own body giving in to the weakness he had been born with. Tiny crystals have begun their spread across his cheek. Slowly sleeping below the skin, splitting muscle and replacing it with a mineral you hope you'd never seen him wear.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You repeat like a mantra. It was you who had gotten him into this mess. If you had not insisted on him accompanying you, He would have been back at the office, slacking off as he deserved. "It's all my fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Hey now, you didn't know this would happen." His voice was gravelly as if the corruption had already made its way to his throat, permeating his voice box.

Behind you, your bangboo's buzzing circuits shoot out sparks as it twitches helplessly on the concrete. It repeats the same dialogue over and over. The echoing fills you with insurmountable rage, and each discordant repeat of your failure fills you with a burning desire to smash it into pieces.

You stumble over your words, scanning your surroundings. "We have to get out of here. Maybe there's a chance-"

Harumasa cuts you off, gently squeezing your hand. "I think we missed that boat a long time ago." A brutal cough overtakes his words, leaving nothing but grits of dust.

"Stop it." You spoke gravely. "Stop talking like that!" You didn't mean to raise your voice. Comforting him is what you should be doing, not yelling as if he is in the wrong.

Harumasa couldn't help but chuckle. He had always admired your tenacity, even if you were lying to yourself.

"Hey.. remember what I asked from you?" His eyes reach yours, the brilliant gold now a cold yellow. You nod sullenly; tears cloud your vision.

"That's good." Harumasa looked down at his legs; crystals had already formed around their length. "It seems like I have nothing to worry about, then."

You held him for a few moments, your breaths fluctuating as you struggled to hold on to your sobs. You aren't sure what you're waiting for. The end was inevitable; once corruption took root, it would only spread.

"C'mon.. you promised. You wouldn't go back on a promise, would you?" He rested his head on your shoulder, unable to hold the weight alone. He reaches for your thigh, pulling out the dagger from its sheath.

The bough finally breaks, and sorrowful tears shove themselves past your waterline. "I can't.."

"Please." He begs. You were being selfish; you knew you were. Stretching a few moments with him while he was suffering an insoluble torment.

He places the dagger in your palm, folding your fingers over it. Guiding the dagger to his chest, he whispers, "please."

The crack of rocks becomes more apparent as it travels up from his legs at an alarming speed. No longer could you delay your parting. It was a matter of seconds now.

Oh, how you wish you had more time—more time to spend doing the things he loves and more time with him.

The cool steel punctures through his breast. Penetrating faster than corruption could leech. In your arms, he ceases his breathing. The hand, cradling his killer, falls to his side, never to rise again.

-----

The world was cruel to those who can't acclimate. A goodbye will only fall deaf to those who refuse to listen. It will always loom even if they ignore what happened, waiting for the day they let their guard down.

When you return to work a few weeks later, you expect to see him sitting at his desk, his head resting gently on the piles of paperwork he has yet to do. You know it's impossible, but you can't shake the routine you have grown to love.

Once you are seated at your new desk, one far from his, a voice gently calls out your name.

"I think it's best if we talk-"

"Don't." You don't bother turning around; you don't want to see them.

"Please, just give it a chance. It would be beneficial to us all if we had a moment to talk about him."

"I said don't. I don't want to talk about this, okay?" She noticed how you tiptoed around the subject, too afraid to speak his name.

"I won't force you," she pauses, unsure if she should speak. But I think he would want you to attend his funeral." She gently places a card on your desk—a funeral.

You wouldn't. You had too much work to do.

-----

It comes in waves. A sheet of weight that crushes you, you can fight against the tide till it recedes, but it always comes back. Violently.

He should have never gone with you. It was his fault. It's his fault for coming. It's his fault for being sick. That's what you keep telling yourself over and over till you are choking on your guilt.

When you are not blaming him, he comes in your dreams. He haunts your safe haven, removing the white and painting it red. His figure is tainted with corruption, and his eyes are a different shade than you remember. He laughs, and he jeers, mocking your own failure to protect.

You were weak. Weak in battle and weak against him. Everything he says rings true, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise.

-----

Wishing for a different outcome. If you were given the chance to reverse time, what would you do differently?

Sometimes, you ponder if you could have done something to prevent this from happening. If you had told him no that morning, would he be laughing with you today? How about if you took a different route in the hallow? Would he have safely made it out? You have repeatedly run through all the possibilities in your mind, looking for a new path to alter.

If you had one wish, it would be to see into the future. You would make sure you would never make the same mistake. You'd protect him this time.

You smile fondly at your fantasy.

-----

The world is bleak, but it's worse without them. The battle against the tide has been lost. You let the water submerge you.

You haven't been to work in almost a month. Getting out of bed was already daunting, but seeing his desk was more so. Even the thought would cause tears to well up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you didn't know how to stop.

Once you had reluctantly drifted to sleep, he spoke. It was soft and tender, a strong contrast to his previous visits. His eyes were that familiar shade of sunset you had remembered. His flesh had broken through the corruption, no longer tainted with pain. It was truly him.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're stronger than this."

"Harumasa!" you call out, reaching for him, hoping to feel his warmth, but your hand passes through.

"Hah, that doesn't work, I already tried."

"Is it really you?" you whisper, your illusionary hand caressing as close to his face as you can. Your eyes snap to his features, his eyes, his nose, and his hair, painting a memory. "I miss you so much."

His hand hovers over yours; there is no sensation of touch, but something else overwhelms you—a warmth so beautifully him.

"I miss you too." He eyed gaze upon you as if you hung the sun itself, and you couldn't help but do the same.

When you can't handle his stare any longer, you pull him into a hug to the best of your abilities. For a moment, you feel like he's real again.

But as the way of all things, it must come to an end. Just as quick as the warmth came, it began to disappear. His figure slowly blended in with the backdrop of your dreamland.

"No-!" You stumble towards him, but he is already gone.

"Don't rush. I'll see you when you get here, kay?"

You woke up with a gasp. The room was grey, except for a single ray of light shining through the crack of your curtain.

Perhaps you would get out of bed today.

-----

It is never truly gone, just bearable. A wound so deep can heal, but a scar will always remain.

The dream where he spoke so tenderly was his last visit. He never returned, no matter how often you tried to recreate that day. The wounds have healed, but they left their mark. The world may have gone on without him, but yours had stopped the day he passed. You weren't sure if it would ever spin again, but you'd be damned if you didn't try.

Returning to work after your final meeting was daunting, but his words cleared the clouds in your mind, allowing you to see clearly for the first time. If you had just pulled the curtain, you'd realize the light had been shining there all along.

The members of section 6 were your light. They carried the burden of loss just like you did. They cried and screamed for a second chance, just as you. Allowing them in was allowing yourself to heal. You deserved that much.

So, you will allow yourself to heal. Day by day, you will carry on your work, fighting for everything he believed in, just like he would for you.

[idlescara]

my friend recently died so i’m subjecting everyone to harumasa angst lol will probably subject everyone to more angst later

gender neutral reader, established relationship, hurt/no comfort, harumasa backstory spoilers (may be inaccurate bc i’m going off how i interpret it), harumasa dies, angst

“why didn’t you tell me, haru? why…” you muttered under your breath as you clutched onto the jacket that was always tied around his waist. it was the only thing that miyabi and soukaku found when they were sent into the hollow to search for him.

the investigation concluded in that he was declared KIA, or rather he turned into a ethereal and was now roaming the hollow.

he hadn’t told you that he had ether aptitude regression syndrome, or how he had been tested on when he was a child.

miyabi could only watch you as you kneeled on the ground where you had met them as they emerged from the hollow holding harumasa’s jacket, nearly tearing the fabric of it from how tightly you were holding it in your hands.

you silently sobbed into it, body shaking as you did.

she, and the rest of the team, eventually left the area, giving you privacy as you grieved.

[luminique]

kissing harumasa means keeping your hands on his face and never letting them go down to his neck. he’d even hold them there with his own hands, a silent plea to not touch the mark left by the serum.

he didn’t lash out at you the first (and only) time you unintentionally touched it. instead, he pulled away immediately, the fear in his eyes mixed with his shaky breaths as he’s trying to control himself. he could see his own reflection in your worried eyes, seeing hallucinations of him turning into an ethereal. your hands went to hold his, you could feel him quivering as he shook his head at you. he didn’t mean to ruin the mood, he didn’t want to become a monster. he isn’t a monster but this irrational fear was eating him up whole that it even put your relationship on the line.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t realize what i had done,” your voice was clear as always, guiding him back to the current moment. the reflection of him in your eyes returned to normal but you had a regretful look in your gaze. your thumb rubbed over the back of his hand, reminding him that you were still there. “i love you,” you mumbled out to him, so soft, so quiet. that was all he needed to hear. he knew it was an honest mistake and not intentional on your end, maybe he overreacted. he brought your hands up to his mouth, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. the hands that unknowingly triggered his fight or flight mode, were the same hands that caressed him so gently every time. in between his kisses, he’d say his own ‘i love you’ and ‘i’m sorry’s to try and reassure you of his sudden reaction. he wasn’t deserving of your love, you shouldn’t be the victim of his past, but you stay with him regardless. overcoming it all while holding hands, one kiss at a time.

[muminshoom]

Lore accurate H.S.O. Section 6

[m-inntii]

[BEWARE!! SPOILERS FOR AMPHOREUS AND GAY MEN!!!,!,

MYDEI AND PHAINON YOU GAY LIL SHITS YOU AIN’ FUCKIN SLICK I SEE YA.

Phainon hesitating when leaving Mydei, wanting to help him before leaving anyway, and then being an anxious mess outside, being shown worrying about him every moment, like 😭

(also ignoring the fact iT’S FUCKING IMPLIED HE WAS GONG TO SACRIFICE HERSELF I THINK?? IDK TAKE MY WORDS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT CUZ I DIDNT UNDERSTAND SHIT ABT WHAT HE WAS GONNA DO BUT LIKE BRO SXPECT AN ENTIRE RANT TO HIM AT SOME POINT.)

Phainon SPECIFCALLY told Mydei NOT to come to his ceremony because he should heal up, and he still did ANYWAY cause he was WORRIED. LIKE- Self-deprecating and all that Mydei is sure but HE CAME TO HIS CEREMONY WHILE INJURED BECAUSE HE WAS WRORRIED FOR HIM LIKE…bruv you ain’ beating no allegations

Phainon beign the only person Mydei can truly spar without holding back, and eveN SPARRING FOR 10 FUCKING DAYS STRAIGHT ONCE??? WHAT???

ALSO THIS

LIKE OH MY GOD THEY CARE SM FOR EACH OTHEER KIKE BRO I’M CRYINg

also you cannot tell me that Phainon is depressed in some way. He lost his entire hometown apparently, his entire mission is fueled purely out of a want for revenge, and the only reason he took up the role of the chye so heirs is because it gave him a purpose like…lol he’s so depressed. Mydei please help your boy

ALSO APPARENT THERE’S A MEMORY CORE OF PHAINON BASICALLY CALLING MYDEI HOT??? LIKE??

[maximaxstreasurebox]

I need someone to write about how Harumasa probably crashed out after learning his master saved him (again), like there's no way hes not feeling like sht after the rooftop scene-

Imagine- hes so conflicted and confused, takes a moment to process silently, coming to a logical conclusion that yeah his master was not the best guy, staying calm with the proxy around... but then few hours later back in his room, he just.. breaks, emotionally, he thought he was a goner but master gave him a chance again, even beyond death.... no matter what master was tasked to do originally, he still chose to later go against it and try to cure him. Even if Haru doesn't fear death, the fact that he's not going out as a monster that haunts his dreams... Man 🧍

[khys-treasure-box]

AN: Still brainrotting hard, so here's even more Harumasa. I swear, I am working on a non-Harumasa related post though! This one just came to me as I woke up and I needed to write it down before I inevitably forgot it.

CW: Just Harumasa angst. If you like him then this will just make you sad, I fear. The thought literally made me sad when it came to me, and I'm just choosing to inflict it upon all of you too. :(

So, hear me out here, Harumasa is okay with the life he has now. I mean, that's obvious, isn't it? However, I think that sometimes, when his mind wanders off, he thinks about what his life could be like if he wasn't sick; all the things he could be doing if he was just a normal guy.

He could certainly do his job with a lot less worry, although he guesses he wouldn't be able to get sick leave so easily anymore, but he wouldn't be taking such a big risk every time he goes into a Hollow or comes into contact with ether in any way. Hell, maybe if he was just a normal guy, he'd have a more normal job. It's kinda weird for him to imagine himself just having a mundane desk job or something, but maybe if he hadn't ever been sick, that's where he'd be.

Outside of work, maybe he'd go out a bit more? What kinds of fun hobbies could he have had? Maybe he could've still gotten into archery regardless, but at the same time, maybe he would've ended up liking some other sport more? Who knows, maybe in another life he would've been a pro... skater, maybe? Something else fun like that? Hell, who knows, maybe he would've somehow gotten into something really slow and methodical like crochet instead of some super intense hobby. There's really so many possibilities it's almost paralyzing.

I also think that, somewhere deep down, although he'd never acknowledge it, Harumasa's mind does linger a lot on what it'd be like to have a family. Of course, for him, something like that is impossible, and if not impossible then it'd certainly be dangerous, but it doesn't stop him. He just can't help but think about what it'd be like being someone's life partner, being a dad and watching his kid grow up, growing old with someone... but that's all nothing more than a childish fantasy for someone who may not be among the living anymore within the next few years.

In short, I do believe he probably, whether he wants or likes to, thinks about who he could be without his illness a lot and I do think it really messes with him sometimes. :(

In extra short, this man really needs and absolutely deserves the world; and a hug, a big hug.

[wyzzze]

I know this fandom is about to be weird and ableist towards Harumasa and make his tag unbearable to even skim through very soon and it's just going to be an unavoidable fact of liking yaoiful homotron 3000 but, god, if I could save him from this fate, I would 💔

[dooberific]

❝ 𝘔𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴, 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘶 ❞

harumasa X afab!reader

genre: fluff w some angst

summary: it’s Christmas time in the city, and he’s not in your arms when he should be

wc: 1k

It’s a bit late but Merry Christmas!

He had screwed up. It was Christmas Eve, his phone was dead, and he was supposed to be by your side over an hour ago….no two.

Lumina Square glowed with holiday cheer, wreaths and trees and colorful lights passing by at a dizzying pace as he sprinted down the sidewalk, dodging the thinning crowd of pedestrians that paced by slowly, arms hooked together as they fought off the late-year chill.

That was what he was supposed to be doing. You were supposed to be curled at his side, hands intertwined as you shared a late dinner and walked through the Square to enjoy the decorations together. It was your single request of him for the holidays once you showed up at his apartment and realized his Christmas cheer lived and died by the ugly sweater he wore to work for a single day.

All these Christmases alone, and for the first time there was a second warm body invading his space that actually cared enough to integrate him into their holiday traditions. And he had screwed it up.

His heart was thundering in his chest, his breathing labored as he could feel himself begin to wheeze but he didn’t care. You were the only thing at the forefront of his mind. Your disappointed face, the way you would quietly reassure him though you would never address your own feelings.

You were too patient, too kind, and it scared him out of his mind to think of returning to his apartment and you being gone just like everyone else he ever opened himself up to.

His pace faltered, breathing labored as a wet cough wracked through his chest, the cold air stinging his lungs as he caught his breath, his heart thundering in his ears. It was already over an hour and a half since he was supposed to meet you, and his hope was waning as quickly as the anxiety was building in his gut.

There wasn’t much more of the Square to cover anymore, the dark expanse of the sky over the bay feeling like an ominous sign of his fate before a flash of pink caught his eye.

A chunky knit scarf decorated with colorful pompoms. The same chunky scarf you had wrapped around his own neck a few weeks prior as he left for work one morning nursing a runny nose.

You were still here.

Hair tousled from the wind under your earmuffs, arms tucked tightly to your side as you sipped on a festive red cup of some hot beverage, your nose and cheeks flushed from the cold under the warm glow of the Christmas lights that still brightened the Square despite the business lights dimming as they closed for the night.

You’d never been a prettier sight in his eyes as you perked up, a grin dimpling your cheeks as your arm lifted in a dramatic wave.

Your laughter rang sugary sweet in his ears as he scooped you up in his arms, face burying into the wool of your coat as he spun you around, paying no mind to your chiding to be careful of the hot drink precariously balanced in your hand.

His breath was warm against your skin he buried his face into the side of your neck, his arms anchoring you tightly against his chest. You could feel him quiver in your embrace, a telltale shudder in his chest as your free hand slowly ran up and down his spine.

Apologies fell like a mantra from his lips, his voice quivering with such fervor that it scared you. You fisted the back of his coat. “Haru, Haru sweetie, listen—“

“Asaba Harumasa!” Your tone was sharp as you wrestled your arm against his chest, forcing him back, his arms falling loosely around your waist as you met his melancholy gaze.

He didn’t even know he was crying till your face fell, your coffee dropping unceremoniously to the sidewalk as you cupped his icy cheeks between your gloved hands, thumbs brushing away the wet streaks that marred his fair skin.

“Haru, why are you crying?” You whispered, breath condensing in the cold. He didn’t answer, his lip quivering as he pressed his forehead flush to your own.

His breathing was still labored, tongue thick and cottony. “I’m sorry, work ran late and then my phone and—,” his words were jumbled as his breath caught in his throat between hiccups, “and this meant a lot to you, ‘n I thought you’d leave.” He stammered out a few more apologies but you just shook your head, pressing a short kiss to his lips.

You still tasted like coffee, your fingers brushing the nape of his neck as you parted. “But I’m still right here aren’t I?” You mused, fingers drawing little shapes on the skin peeking from beneath his jacket collar as you gently swayed him on his feet.

“I’m still here, wrapped in your arms in Lumina Square just like we planned. It’s going to take a little more than you being late to get rid of me, so please,” you drew his face up as you rubbed the tip of your nose against his.

“Don’t cry~”

He sucked in a shaky breath as he nodded, the hint of a smile quirking his lips.

“Now how about we go home? You’re freezing and we can’t have you taking any more sick days now can we?”

“Might not be so bad if you’re there to nurse me back to health~”

You grinned as you spun around, tucking your arm into his, happy to hear his usual vigor begin to return despite his hoarse voice as you started to walk. “I’m afraid I make for a mean nurse.”

The chiming of a bell cut through the quieting square, 12 steady beats cutting through the air as little crystalline flakes danced out of the darkness.

“Well would you look at that,” you paused, pulling your scarf loose from your neck as you looped it around his own, drawing him close. Snowflakes clung to the tips of his hair like tiny gemstones as you stood on your toes and pressed another kiss to his lips, feeling him smile under your touch as he pulled you tighter to his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Haru.”

Rey 2024 🎄

[harumasa-wifey]

After watching the harumasa character demo, his lover definitely cuddles him back to sleep after every nightmare he has, giving him kisses and sweet talking him too yk. he's scared about turning and us leaving so we gotta convince him hard abt never leaving him alone too 😔😔 poor bby I can't wait for him to be playable JSJDJS

Rainy night's

Harumasa x Fem!reader

Warnings: slightly angst, mentions of trauma

Note: i am working on this really fun request i got from an anon i really really love the idea and i hope i can present you with something good. For now here is your request anon! I hope you'll like it

A cool breeze flows outside with the sound of the gentle raindrops falling constantly with no sign of stopping.

They laid on the bed under the sheets holding onto the other. You were there whenever he needed to hold him, to comfort and remind him that he is still here.

“I am here haru and you are too”

Your voice gently reminds him of his present surroundings while gently brushing your fingers through his hair as his grip remains around your waist while laying his head on your chest. There was no exchange of words yet the silence was the most comfortable for him.

Those horrible images flashing through his mind yet again.Those hands covered in your blood, the thought that he harmed you or worse killed you made him sick to his stomach. The empty street which was now filled with people watching him as he stood there.

“It wasn't me…”

His eyes shot open to meet yours.

You were fine, you are still here with him. He would never think of even laying a scratch on you.

“Oh you are awake! I was worried”

your hands gently holding his face, your eyes filled with anxiousness and love.

He immediately pulls you in his embrace mumbling endless chains of,

“I am sorry”

“It wasn't me”

“I will never do that”

“Please don't leave”

You hummed in response gently brushing your fingers through his hair soothing him down as his heavy breathing finally came to a close.

“I am still here haru”

“You are still you.”

You said while placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

This is one of those longest and painful night's of his but he is grateful to have you by his side now to share his pain though he does not know how long it will last.

[harumeowsaboo]

ft. gn! reader, fluff with a pinch of angst, romantic relationship, not beta-read; throwing my word vomits before my brain dries up.

The sun filtered through the curtains, the light barely managing to reach your face as it was still relatively early. In your groggy state, you could hear the singing of birds and the occasional car driving by. Rubbing as much of the sleep off your eyes as possible, you prepared for the hardest part; waking Harumasa up.

It wasn't that he was too heavy of a sleeper, no. Although some of the medicine he took before bed could make him sleep a bit deeper, they couldn't do anything against his nightmares.

Mornings were incredibly hard, because they meant you had to wake up your exhausted boyfriend, who most likely didn't sleep near as well as he needed to. But, even with his playful whining and jokes about you not letting him laze around, the two of you knew that it was for the best.

For one, because if you let him sleep in once, you'd most likely end up doing it again, so you couldn't let the guilt consume you. He was already barely on time for work and slacked off very often, being any later could bring actual trouble.

And, well, it wasn't as if it would help much, anyway. Harumasa would still feel tired, and he preferred to be woken up rather than left to deal with his usual nightmares. Although, he did mention once that sleeping next to you helped quite a lot, even if they still happened.

On the bright side, the agent was happier being woken up by you rather than his alarm.

You were careful not to disturb the little ball of fluff laying near Harumasa's head, the kitten's ears flickered at the sound of the sheets when you moved but it didn't bother to open its eyes.

Leaning down, you began the little habit you had grown used to; first a kiss on his exposed forehead, followed by another on the tip of his nose, a few on his cheeks...

When you were about to give him the final one, you stopped, watching his puckered lips with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile. A few seconds passed.

"...Aw, come on, where's my good morning kiss?" Tired of waiting, Harumasa finally opened his eyes, narrowed due to the sunlight slowly reaching more into the bedroom.

"No need for that since you're awake now. I'll go prepare breakfast—"

Fingers wrapped around your arm when you tried to move away, pulling until you ended up inches away from his face and your chest was pressed against his. His arms firmly hugged your waist, refusing to give you a chance to escape.

"You aren't going anywhere until you kiss me." His hold remained strong even as you attempted to get up. "Nope, nu-uh. Nice try."

His lean body and tendency of slacking off made you forget that he was a trained officer, an archer on top of that, so there was no way for you to win in strength.

"Fine, fine." You sighed, defeated, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Harumasa let out a pleased hum, arms loosening and giving you the chance to slip out of his hold and stand up from the bed. "Now go get ready or you'll be late. And if you try to use me as an excuse this time, I'll tell Yanagi about your favorite spots to slack off at."

Your boyfriend gasped. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

With that, you left your shared bedroom to refresh yourself and start preparing everything; breakfast, and some food for Harumasa to eat later, along with some candies for Soukaku.

It was a nice, simple routine that you hoped would last for a few more years, at the very least.

[tinum]

Can I request a fix where reader had heart surgery and they are kinda loopy after the anesthesia and just flirt with harumasa??? Ok it's not realistic to meet someone directly after surgery but I think it would be cute XD

Heartbeat - Harumasa x Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, probably incorrect portrayal of heart surgery, errors WordCount: 966 Notes: I felt like readers personality was closer to his in this fic but its okay because he was just worried!

When Harumasa first heard about your surgery from Soukaku, he could barely contain his anxiety. Thoughts of all the complications swirled in his brain, prompting him to reach for his phone with a shaky hand. He immediately texted Yanagi that he would not be going in to work for the day. She understood your situation, and though she wanted to respect your wishes, she knew Harumasa wouldn't back down. Not when it came to you.

Harumasa was no stranger to hospital visits; in fact, he was quite friendly with the staff. He knew the ins and outs, the sterile coldness, the checking in, the waiting. He sat for what seemed like hours, his leg bouncing in place and a deep pit in his stomach. Whenever a door opened, he would snap out of his trance, hoping it would be your doctor.

When the time to visit came, he was leading the doctor. The halls were practically mapped in his mind. A few turns down hallways and up an elevator would lead you to the recovery ward.

This ward in particular always left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. The walls seemed to be painted with such a vibrant hope: to heal and never return. His eyes had grown used to the colors; they'd grown dull and hope seemed like a foolish notion. Could it really be classified as recovery if coming back was the only outcome?

"We already administered them pain medication so they should be resting. Try not to do anything that'll increase their heart rate," the doctor advised. He nodded, not fully listening. It's not that he didn't care about protocol; no, he quite understood the importance of it. He just couldn't bear another moment wondering if you were okay. "They're strong. A full recovery is likely."

It was as if the doctor could sense his worry. Maybe he noticed his shaky palm reaching for the doorknob, or he was just doing his job. Either way, he had to see you.

Upon stepping into the room, a wave of frigid air struck his cheeks. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from the lines on a nearby monitor. You were lying on your side, slowly twisting upon hearing someone enter the room.

"Haru?" Your voice was hoarse.

He cringed at the weakness coming from you. In a way, it was painful to see you like this: frail and sick. "Hey, how you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

"Like I just had surgery." He smiled at that, he supposed it was a good enough sign. You weren't the type to hide your struggle behind a cheesy joke like he did. He admired that about you.

A few moments pass before he speaks again. "I didn't know."

"I thought I hid it well enough. You weren't supposed to find out." You look up at him; his brows are furrowed and his eyes hold some sort of pain behind them. Maybe it was just the meds, but he seems more beautiful than ever.

"Soukaku told me," he lets out a sigh, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Pulling a chair from the wall, he sets it next to your bed.

"I know. I just didn't want to worry you." Why at this moment did you decide to be selfless? Though he couldn't fault you. It was as if you had taken a page from his own book.

"I'd be worried either way," he murmured, letting his gaze fall under the weight of something tender. "I care about you."

"I don't get it, why are you so worried? It's just surgery." You laugh, a smile rising to your lips. It was rare that Harumasa was this soft. Usually, his tenderness would be waved off by an onslaught of jokes.

"I already said I care about you. You're practically family." His eyes analyze your face. He couldn't quite tell if you were being serious or just fishing for more heartfelt words.

You place a palm to your heart in mock hurt. "Ouch, Harumasa! Did you just family-zone me? That hurt more than the surgery!"

"Oh, c'mon. You know what I mean." His hand wraps around yours, nuzzling it into his cheek. He is warm, or the room is getting hotter. "I care about you. More than just a friend."

Harumasa doesn't miss the way your cheeks flare up or the sudden beeps from the monitor. He retracted his hand in a swift motion and stood up, his expression showing worry. "Are you all right?"

"What's wrong, Harumasa?" you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Did you do something bad?"

Running a hand through his hair, he stares at the monitor. Your heartbeats slowed down and no doctors seemed to be rushing in. He was sure he was going to faint, the thought of possibly hurting you fresh in his mind.

"So, was that a confession?" You snap him out of his trance with your teasing voice. His eyes snap to yours, giving you an unimpressed look. You were going to give him a heart attack one of these days if you continued like this. The more he thought about it the more he didn't mind, maybe they'd put him in the room next to yours.

"You," He scoffs, flicking his finger against your forehead lightly, "need to get some rest."

"Aw, running already, Asaba?" As much as you tried to stifle it, a yawn slipped it's way out your throat. His gaze softened when he realized he was making the correct choice. You needed rest.

"Nah, just leaving before you make me do something that'll get me into trouble with your doctor." You didn't catch it from your angle, but his cheeks blushed with a quiet warmth of his own.

[magicalbats]

Soft Edges (Harumasa x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 3756

Warnings: afab!reader, chronic illness, piv, condoms, angst with porn

⭐

Spring rains bring summer flowers, and the clawing death rattle at the end of the world.

The moisture in the air bothers his lungs. 

You spend some time puttering around in his small kitchenette, preparing a herbal infused tea to help soothe the ache in his throat while he coughs and hacks incessantly in the other room. It makes the one bedroom apartment smell vaguely like an apothecary rather than a hospital bed. 

That seems to come as a relief almost as much as the warm drink does when he sips on it, humming a low sound of appreciation before thanking you for the thoughtful gesture. 

Sitting on the edge of the mattress with him, you study Harumasa for any signs of further deterioration in his condition. There were good days and there were bad days, and today was just unfortunate enough to be one of the latter. The hot tea and its medicinal properties seem to do him some good though. He doesn’t look like he’s in the process of actively dying on you, at least. 

Noticing your lingering stare on him, he lifts his attention to peer over at you. “What? Is there something on my face?” His voice is still a bit raspy. Weak. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, come on. Tell me where it is so I can get it.” His unoccupied hand, the one not currently wrapped around the cup he’s got braced against his knee, comes up to swipe at the corner of his mouth, his cheek. But the knowing twinkle in his eye belies his sincerity and gives him away. 

Laughing despite your best attempt not to, you reach out to gently tug his arm back down. “Stop that. You know I’m just worried about you. It’s not nice to tease me.” 

“But I told you I’m fine, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about.” He assures you, his fingers snatching at yours before you can pull them out of his reach. 

Successfully snagging them, he makes quick work of sliding his palm over yours and fitting the digits together like they were a perfectly aligned puzzle snapping into place. 

And beyond the sterile sanctity of his apartment, the pelting rain buffets at the windows, an incessant staccato played to the tune of the howling wind.  

His skin feels clammy, you notice, and you wonder if you should go get the space heater out of the closet in the hallway. It was almost summer in New Eridu but the rain had brought with it an unseasonable chill that had even made you opt for a hoodie before venturing outside. He was probably feeling it worse than you were. 

“Haru - -“ 

“You don’t need to fret over me so much every time you come over,” He tells you gently, his thumb idly brushing over the back of your knuckles. “No matter how much you may want to be, you’re not actually a nurse you know. And for the better, really.” 

“Why is that?” You ask, earning yourself a softly husking laugh from him. 

“You’re way too cute, for starters. I’d never be able to control myself and I’d get into all sorts of trouble. Can you imagine your patient popping a hard on in the middle of you trying to help them get dressed? You’d hate it too, don’t lie.” 

Rolling your eyes at that, you start to pull away but he holds fast to your hand. The way he snickers, low and quiet, like his lungs couldn’t take anything more than that, almost pulls at your heartstrings enough to distract you from his real angle. But at the same time it’s also an intimately familiar sound that you don’t associate with his illness at all, in so much as you could separate one from the other. He often laughed like that when he was in the process of turning your own body utterly against you. 

Warming at the thought, you shoot him a halfhearted look of warning. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not incapable of dressing yourself then.”

“Mm, perhaps. But I’m afraid that’s not gonna’ stop me from getting a hard on though.”

He throws you a playful wink to go with it and you draw a quick breath to chide him for not taking his health more seriously, for always downplaying his own mysterious maladies. But the words catch in your throat when he suddenly tugs your captured hand across his lap. 

Right into the center is where he presses it, making sure you feel the stirring outline of him through his cozy pajama bottoms. That he’d managed to change into them at all before knocking out under the medicated lull of myriad sleep aids and nervous system suppressing narcotics the night before was likely a small miracle. Sometimes the looming possibility of Harumasa needing help with basic everyday functions like dressing himself did not seem like such a far off what-if.  

It was not yet that day though and he was still in control of his body, at least for the time being. 

Lifting your gaze, you find his eyes underneath the attractively tousled fringe of his bangs where it was slipping forward without the usual headband in place to keep his hair back. He’s smiling at you, a barely there upward curl of his mouth that almost reads of fatigue rather than sly intent. The ghostly suggestion of tension lines on his otherwise blemish free face further solidifies that impression. 

But the way he looks at you speaks volumes, loudly conveying the message of the young man he might have been if he were not so plagued by ill health. He was sickly, yes. There was no getting around that uncomfortable truth no matter how much he tried to write off the severity of it. 

Yet he was by all accounts in the prime of his life, or he should have been anyway. Just a headstrong twenty something with the libido to match. He wanted to live, to experience. You could certainly give him that. 

“Are you sure?” At his nod, you carefully adjust your hand to close your fingers around the slowly stiffening length of him. He breathes a quiet sigh when you squeeze it through the thin layer of his bottoms. Keen and perfectly eager, but as always you were wary about going into it too hard and too fast. Especially after that coughing fit he had earlier … 

“Don’t make that face,” He murmurs. Stretching his arm out to the side, he sets the nearly empty cup on the bedside table right next to the menagerie of prescription pill bottles left out in disarray. “You’re not going to break me or kill me. Promise. I said I’m fine, didn’t I?” 

You think the two of you must have drastically different ideas of what it means to be fine but you don’t say that to him or push the topic any further than that. For his sake as much as for your own. 

And when Harumasa reaches for you, pulling you in against him, you willingly relent and sink happily into the familiar warmth of his lean, athletic frame. He feels sturdy enough that you don’t let your mind linger on it any longer than necessary and instead give yourself over to the searing kiss he presses into your mouth. You trust him to know his own limits, to recognize when something was actually wrong versus when he was just going through a bad flare up or having a shitty day. If he was feeling well enough to initiate this then you were happy to oblige. 

Which was the real crux of it, wasn’t it? The problem with a casual hookup turned long term relationship through some inexplicable means that you still weren’t entirely clear on even to this very day. What should have been a one time exchange somehow became months spent together, and now these sorts of physical exchanges were one of the rare comforts you still had that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, someway, it would all work out in the end. 

Because he certainly doesn’t seem frail and prone to illness when he bodily hauls you up further onto the bed so he can toss you down next to him with an expert flip. Your weight bounces against the mattress once from the momentum and then he’s on top of you, pinning you in place underneath him. The Harumasa you’d met that very first night and the one you make herbal tea for to soothe his throat were sometimes difficult to reconcile in your mind. But there was no mistaking that they were indeed one and the same in moments like this. 

Leaning over you, his mouth meets yours in a slow motion crash, hungry and eager to taste, eliciting a low moan of wanting from you. Kissing him back, you lift your arms to twine them around his neck while his hands slip under your hoodie to feel along your front. The shirt underneath is quickly rucked up to give him access to your chest where he hooks his fingers into the band of your bra, inching it down while his tongue tangles with yours.  

You gladly arch into his touch and your tits slip free to brush against the interior of your sweatshirt unimpeded. The sensation makes you full on shudder. Tearing your mouth away from his, you loose a quaking exhale into the still apartment which he responds to with a soft groan. The sound makes your socked toes curl as he shoves a hard kiss into the soft swell of your cheek, your jaw, then your neck. 

Unable to go any further past the bulk of the hood gathered around your throat, Harumasa pushes back just enough to give himself room to work. Grabbing the hem and shoving it up to bunch under your chin, he quickly brings his hands back down to slip them into your stretchy leggings next. Your achingly stiff nipples strain in the open air now, making the growing knot in your lower stomach tighten even more. 

A new buzzing thrum of anticipation runs through you as you lift your hips up off the bed, allowing him the space needed to yank them down your legs. They’re immediately discarded as soon as he’s got them off, carelessly tossed to the floor before he crawls back up to cover your body with his again. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, lowering himself to his elbows so he can fully cage you in. His mouth finds its way to yours as if pulled by some invisible string and you drag your hands down his lithe frame while you exchange another heated kiss. 

Sliding underneath the rumpled back of his long sleeved shirt, your fingers quickly locate the top band of his pants and tug. The two of you are pressed too tight together in a tangle of limbs, slowly grinding against one another, for you to pull them more than half of the way down. That’s decidedly fine though, and you take to gently kneading over the exposed strip of his ass with encouraging squeezes that just make him press into you even harder. 

The outline of his cock is rigid and unrelenting where it digs against you, moulding your panties to the shape of your labia. You’re eager for the friction of his cock moving inside you, flesh sliding against warm, sticky flesh, and you can tell he is too. Yet he doesn’t rush it and instead takes his time savoringly rolling his hips as if to drag it out and make it last just that little bit longer. 

Or, an unhelpful voice in the back of your mind suggests, maybe this slow tempoed pace is all he can handle right now. 

That chilling thought curbs any impulse you might have to speed things up and take your pleasure from him, allowing Harumasa to set the pace while you simply follow his lead. The first night you’d met after a brief exchange of text messages you’d wrestled with him for dominance in this very bed to see who would come out on top. Now, however, you’re pliant and perfectly in tune with the signals of his body, lessening the demanding pressure of your hands when his breath starts to become a bit too labored. 

Groaning a shuddering noise of appreciation, he nudges himself down to your chest where he covers one pert nipple with his mouth. A roughly calloused palm comes up to grab and pinch at the other while he suckles your teat to aching attention, using his lips and his tongue to lave at the bud. His pulse soon seems to even out again and the shallow contractions of his chest become not quite so dramatic. Still, you worry about him. 

“You should switch me spots, Haru.” You tell him gently as you thread your fingers through his soft, silken hair, cradling him to your breast. “Let me be on top this time.” 

Harumasa comes up off your tit to shoot you an overly confident smirk, one you’re not quite sure he can back up right now. But you don’t protest or tell him to stop when he reaches between you to fist at his pants, shoving them down in the front to let his cock spring loose. “That won’t be necessary. Really, I had no idea I was dating such a mother hen. I’m not made of glass, babe.” 

A mournful chord curls through you, dousing the knotted heat in your stomach by some small margin. 

At the same time the rain picks up outside as if mirroring the tumultuous rising current of emotion in your chest. It smacks at the windows so hard they begin to rattle in their frames, thunder booming loudly somewhere in the not far off distance. The storm was getting worse. You hope the electricity doesn’t go out. 

“I know you’re not.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Keeping his tone light and playful, Harumasa stretches over you to pull open the bedside table drawer. A condom is quickly located and pulled out, the foil wrapper crinkling lightly when he starts to rip it open. “Even if I was on my deathbed I think I could still make you scream. I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you.” 

“Please don’t joke like that.” You snip back at him, not finding it even remotely funny. But he just laughs another low snickering sound as rolls the flesh colored rubber over his stiff cock almost down to the base. Feeling a mild pang of remorse, you draw a careful breath and say much more gently, “You don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to, Haru. I told you I’m taking birth control.” 

Humming a quiet sound, he gives himself a brief pump of his hand over the latex before settling between your legs once again, his hips nudging close to line up with yours. “Don’t worry about it. This is just fine.” 

You’re not so sure you believe that. But for as long as you've known him he’s always been adamant about using protection and you don’t understand his reasons enough to really argue against it. He’d said once he just didn’t want to take any risks or run the chance of leaving you worse off than when you’d met him. You hadn’t been sure what to make of that then and you still don’t know what to make of it now.

There were a great many things about Harumasa that remained a mystery to you though, like what exactly was wrong with him, what his diagnosis was. No matter how you posed the question he was never outright or forthcoming about that either. And while it bothered you sometimes, undeniably so, you’d found that your feelings for him were much too tender for you to push him on such topics. He’d tell you when and if he was ever ready. 

So you reach up and take him into your arms, pulling him against your chest while he tugs your panties to the side with his thumb. His mouth angles towards yours on a steady, unfaltering trajectory and he kisses you deeply, sinking into you with a stilted sigh of relief. 

The weight of his body coming to rest on top of you prods the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing in on clinging, sticky viscous arousal. You’re keenly aware of the heat of him even through the barrier of the condom and you issue a faint moan against his lips as your legs come up to lock around his waist. The careful squeeze you give him has Harumasa sinking inside you, slowly stretching your inner sleeve to the now familiar shape and size of him. 

Another teeth rattling peel of thunder sounds right overhead, as if the very center of the storm was hovering directly above the building. Perhaps it was watching the scene play out, its destructive energy growing and cresting in time with your pleasure while the two of you move in tandem with each other. Or maybe it had taken offense to the measly little ants getting it on first thing in the morning instead of bowing down and cowering in the face of its mighty wrath. 

Or maybe — just maybe, it was trying to warn you. One of you, both of you. You or him. It was impossible to say when the notion itself was so ludicrous but you can’t quite shake the feeling of existential uncertainty that sits like a lead weight in your gut now. 

It feels good having him thrust inside of you, just like you’d known it would. If you were only a bit more naive, in fact, you might have almost thought Harumasa had been made for you, and you him, given the way he seems to rub against every single pleasure inducing nerve ending along the way. You can’t help but grow wetter for him, tightening for him when your muscles eagerly clench down on the steel of his galvanized length. And you freely moan into his mouth where he’s still kissing you between soft rattling groans but … 

Why was he so dead set on using condoms even at this casually crucial junction of the relationship, after all these months spent together in sickness and in health? Did he not trust you? Did he think you were lying about the birth control and he simply wanted to avoid being stuck with you indefinitely? 

Or — could it actually be that the problem lies with him, resting squarely on his shoulders rather than yours? Did he fear what taking that final step would mean, what the end result of it might manifest when he was always prone to bad bouts of illness? 

Was the looming possibility of the existential end really so close that he needed to worry about such things? 

This was no way for a twenty something to live, and you cling to him all the more fervently for it, desperately clutching him to you like a lifeline. You wanted to save him but you don’t know how, so you open your body to him instead. Shelter, comfort and peace; the safe haven of flesh and blood, and heated breaths swapped back and forth between two locked mouths. 

And Harumasa gladly loses himself in you as if in chasing his release he could also escape the cold, bony fingers that hover just out of reach behind him. His flexing hips quicken, smacking into you with abandon now, and he sobs a frantic moan that you greedily swallow, taking it into yourself before feeding it back to him. 

His skin is so clammy under your hands. Like even the flush of arousal couldn’t completely disperse the chill that’s taken up root in him, and your heart skips a harrowing beat when his labored breaths suddenly turn thick with choking little gasps. His chest positively heaves against yours as your hands fly up to take his cheeks between your palms, carefully pushing him back just enough to look into his face. 

Expression wretched, Harumasa whimpers a low sound as if in apology while his pace slows to a weak crawl, almost a total standstill. He doesn’t completely stop fucking into you though, his cock stiffly nudging through your slick inner sleeve at such a stilted, uneven rhythm you know finishing like this will be impossible for you. But that doesn’t really matter now. It’s the very least of your concerns as you softly shush him, cooing gentle reassurances that make him screw his eyes shut as if he were in pain. 

He barely manages to reach his peak before the coughing takes hold of him again. It doubles him over and makes him collapse on top of you where he proceeds to shove his face into the pillow next to your head. You’re only distantly aware of his cock flexing within you and filling the tip of the condom with impotent seed, the vast majority of your attention fixed on the way he hacks and wheezes through the fit that assails him. It bows his spine into a dramatic, worrying hunch which you gently try to smooth out with your hand. It’s no use though. He can’t seem to get it under control. 

“Harumasa, let me help you.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He croaks, very clearly not fine. 

Sucking in a sharp, clawing breath that seems to rip his throat on the way down, he slowly manages to rouse himself enough to pull out and roll off of you. You’re quick to follow him though, pushing up to your elbow so you can look down at him while your hand continues to ineffectively rub over his shuddering back. He sounds like he’s going to cough out a lung. The thought of calling for an ambulance momentarily crosses your mind but you know how he feels about the hospital. Only if it’s an actual emergency, he’d once told you. 

But how the hell were you supposed to know when that line had been crossed? 

Unsure what else to do, you lean further over him so you can reach down and carefully help him take the used condom off. It’s a difficult task in this position, when he’s half curled over on his side like this, still struggling to get his breathing under control, but you manage, somehow. Just like with everything else, you try to make it work. 

And outside the unsympathetic storm rages on. 

⭐

Crossposted: here

[luminique]

actually in addition to this post i think harumasa believes he might not be deserving of love. mainly due to his fears of turning into an ethereal, so he’d have nightmares of you seeing him turn into one. the fear on your face, you always looked at him with love in your eyes but now you were looking at him like he was a monster.

his alarm goes off and he looks to his side, you were peacefully asleep but just shifting slightly because of the alarm. he wonders sometimes why you’re still here, why you’re still with him. he doesn’t like discussing his past in depth but he does feel that one day, he’ll have to explain it all to you. he hopes that he doesn’t have to explain it to you when he’s an ethereal, he hopes you wouldn’t die to his own hands. he hopes you’ll love him until that happens, and that you’ll still continue to love him after too.

[muminshoom]

I saw someone say that Asaba Harumasa’s supposed ethereal corruption condition being similar to David Martinez’s cyberpsycho from Cyberpunk: Edgerunners and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

[m-inntii]

HARUMASA IS AFUCKING LIAR AND A HALF AND I HSTE HIM SM RIWNFKSG

RAGGHH I HATE THIS MAN SM HES SO SAD AND DEPRESSING SJFOJEKFND.

ONE OF HIS TRACES OR WHATEVER THE FHCK THEY CALL CONS IN ZZZ IS LITERALLY NAMED "WHITE LIES" HE LITERALLY LIES ABOUT THE SERVERITY OF HIS ILLNESS SONOTHERS WONT WORRY AJGJIWJD

AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WASNT PRETENDINGNTO BE FINE IN THE AFTERMATH OF HIS STORYR QUEST. HE NEARLY FUCKING DIED (HELL THE WAY HE TALKED BEFORE GOING INTONTHE ECHO MADE IT SEEM LIKE HE KNEW HE WAS GOINGNTO DIE LKKE WTF), SAW HIS MASTER, THE SAME PERSON WHO HAD HELPED EXPERIMENT AND TEST ON HIM, TRYING TO PROTECT THE CASE WHICH HAD THE THING WHICH WOULD HELP HIM EVEN IN FUCKING ETHERAL FORM, AND HAD EVEN GAVE HIS OWN SPINAL FLUID SO THE KIDS WOJLDNT HAVE TO, AND HE COMES OUT SEEMJNGLY OKAY?? NAH I AINT BELIEVING THIS FACADE NO WAY BITCH

AND HIS TRAILERS. OH MY GOD. LIKE THIS MAN APPEARS ALL GOOF5 AND SHIT BUT THEN OFFSCREEN HE LITERALLY SUFFERING FROM FUCKING NIGHTMARES, BELIEVS HES NOT WORTH LOVING JUST BECAUSE HE HAS AN ILLNESS, USES A CHOCKER TO HIDE THE INJECTION SCARS, AND THEN DRILL PRETENDS TO BE OKAY AND PLAYS OFF HIS ISSUES TO AVOID WORRYIJJG PEOPLE

*exhales* anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk if you couldn't tell I'm obsessed with this man