#next fic req: Misumi angst fic

[a3imaginesblooming]

Summer Breeze || One-Shot Juza Hyodo x Reader

Contains: Fluff, Profanity (It’s Juza), Juza x Reader.

—

Juza could literally feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead in the stifling heat. He swiped at them with his palm, sighing heavily. Cicadas’ chirps buzzed across the courtyard and straight into his eardrums, another irritating staple of the current season. This was not the ideal place to try and concentrate on his lines, but he felt more reluctant to go back inside and deal with Settsu’s constant bitching. Even if he had to sweat it out here, he could deal with that if it meant

some peace and quiet.

More important was his role. Tsuzuru had finished up earlier than expected, and looking over what he’d been assigned… He wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. It just wasn’t him, and his frustration only ate away at him every day he found himself out here, practically glaring holes into the paper. What in the hell was a romance subplot doing in an Autumn troupe play? Better yet, why did Minagi think casting him for it was a good idea? He should know Juza wasn’t suitable to portray some dumbly lovestruck guy...

Well, maybe that was a lie.

As if somehow on cue, Juza caught a figure emerging from the dorms out of the corner of his eye. It was (Y/N), (Favourite Drink) in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. Hung around their elbow was a basket he knew would contain an assortment of treats.

He quickly pressed the copy closed, cast it out of his mind. To see their happy face right now was suddenly far more appealing than getting worked up over lines and lines of increasingly confusing dialogue— he didn’t get creative types at all. Besides, his taste buds were all but crying out for something sweet.

“Hi, Juza!” They chirped in a greeting, smiling widely from ear to ear. He felt warmth radiate through his chest at the sight.

“...Hey.”

As they came closer, (Y/N)‘s brows knit together in an expression of concern. They’d obviously noticed how unhealthily baked he must’ve looked by now. Juza suddenly felt self-conscious, and leaned back, raking a sweaty hand through his hair, as if that would help his case.

(Y/N) looked over him, sympathetically, and extended the tall glass to him; “Here, drink this. In this kind of weather you really need to stay hydrated…” He, obedient, accepted it with lowered eyes, feeling a little guilty that he had made them worry over him. Only a grunt of thanks could escape his throat as he knocked it down a little too eagerly.

Juza swallowed, and tried again; “Thanks, (Y/N)...” Always more gruff than intended. It didn’t matter. Unlike everyone else, they had never been afraid. Certainly not now; as when they laughed, the sound was warm and seemed to fill the entire courtyard.

“You’re welcome. Mind if I sit?” They needed no invitation, of course, and hefted the basket higher up their shoulder to fit beside him. It was pleasantly comforting to feel their added weight settle on the bench.

Juza shifted to make space, only to find he’d been practically glued to the wooden surface after sitting in the same place for too long. He squinted up at the sky; it must have been a while now since he’d come out to the courtyard. He could’ve sworn the sun wasn’t so low before… When he looked back at (Y/N), who began to set out all the goodies they’d brought, all he could think was how radiant they looked now, as the sun’s golden rays of light shone on their hair, their eyes.

They cast him a glance, momentarily, and found he couldn’t quite meet their gaze, so he just stuffed a pastry into his mouth, wishing he could convey how much he loved them- their baking, without having to use words. He was too clumsy for that.

(Y/N), having finished up setting out the whole mini-picnic, sipped at their own drink with a hum of contentment. “...Hope they ain’t botherin’ you in there.” At this, they seemed to hesitate, glancing over their shoulder toward where they’d came. “They’re not, it’s just…” (Y/N) trailed off. Juza knew the feeling. It might have seemed peaceful on the outside, but faint whoops and hollers could still be heard from where they were. Summer troupe in particular could be pretty rowdy, especially hot on the heels of a performance.

“Anyway!” They turned back to him, eager for a subject change, “You having trouble with the script?” Juza blinked, nodding slowly. “Sorta.’” He admitted.

“Tsuzuru… Don’t get what he was goin’ for.” He took up the script again, as well as another pastry, and (Y/N) leaned closer to peer at it, eyebrows drawn. “Why not?”

He hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be something he’d be practicing with them watching anyway.

“Just read.” He said, and held it up to the light for a better view.

They cast him a curious glance, but after a moment of looking over the lines, seemed to digest his meaning, and sat back in equal confusion. “It’s, um… Not what I’d expect from an Autumn play?”

“Yeah. ‘S weird.”

He popped yet another pastry in his mouth, most of the contents of the basket having already disappeared in the same fashion. (Y/N) seemed lost in thought for the moment, seemingly having found a use for his script as a kind of folding-fan. He briefly wondered if they’d eat anything themselves. He’d try his best to leave some for them…

Suddenly, they shot up, a gleam in their eyes. “Juza!” They exclaimed. “You’ve probably memorised those lines by now, right?” Yeah, by now he should hope so...

He raised a brow.

(Y/N) blew out a puff of air. “You can use me as, like a… Practice dummy, I guess? Remember when we did that way back when? Gives you something to focus on.” They explained, hopefully, sounding almost out of breath. He did, but… Juza stiffened, aware of exactly what that would entail this time around.

“...Are you okay with that?” Although he asked this more to himself than anything.

“Of course! I’m the one suggesting it, aren’t I?” They moved to the centre of the courtyard, drink in hand. A light gust of wind picked up, carrying the faint aroma of Tsumugi’s well tended flowerbeds. He supposed, if it would help…

“...’Kay,” he nodded, and after picking off what he’d deemed as his share of the basket, stood up to position himself a fair distance in front of them.

His agreement pleased (Y/N), and they showed it, grinning widely from ear to ear. “Alright!” The cool, late-summer breeze was rising, stirring his finer hairs, but he could still himself blush, just a bit; like he always did when they smiled at him like that. Get it together.

After a moment of searching for their own lines, (Y/N) gave him the signal to begin, and he took a sharp intake of breath to recite:

“I’d follow you anywhere, Marcella. Just say the word. My feelings for you will never—“ Juza grimaced. It was all too strange in his voice. He couldn’t say all this sounding like he was about to violently clobber ‘Marcella’ over the head.

“I know, Roderich.” He blinked, surprised. Ad-libbing? “But this is a journey I must undertake alone. Pray, leave me be...” And from an entirely different scene too; but that was probably a mishap. He watched them painedly start away, even mimicking Tsuzuru’s stage directions. They were actually really getting into this, huh? Cute.

No, don’t think about that. Focus. He readied himself into character again, this time where they’d started: “No, you’re only making a mistake! The world beyond the Capital is dangerous; I’ve been there, I’ve seen it!” Juza took their cue, grasping at the air as Roderich would’ve done Marcella, desperately.

(Y/N), stomping their foot in faux indignation, cried out: “Enough! You are my underling, are you not? I order you to release me this instant!”

“I serve the King, and his orders overrule that of his Queen.” He said, firmly.

Marcella scoffed. “The King now lies an invalid for his reckless choices. The man is an incompetent fool, you know that as well as I!”

“Not in this, Marcella, I—“

(Y/N) broke character for a moment so he could recall the rest of it, and sipped again at their drink, to soothe their throat. His heartbeat thumped in his chest, and he realised how much fun practicing with them like this was. Doing anything with them was fun; being together made it so.

Another cooling breeze came in from the West, opposite a falling horizon. Now, he saw that the sun’s rays crawled like fingers across sunset-tinted moss and cement, grasping hold of the courtyard, its fading light soon to be extinguished. However much time he’d passed stewing away inside himself, much more had passed when he spent with (Y/N).

He liked being with them. He loved to be with them. He loved them, he—

“I love you.” And then it was said.

(Y/N) nearly spat out their drink, thumping at their chest to keep it down.

Shit.

They squinted back at their lines, as what he’d just blurted out sank in.

Shit.

“Um… I don’t think that’s…” (Y/N) flipped through his copy in bewilderment as he stood, eyes stuck to the garden tiles, dumb and paralysed. “...In the script?” Shit. “Actually, where was that other thing…?”

A sharp chord of dread struck through him, his throat drier than sandpaper. “...Juza, are you okay?” He knew their searching eyes fell next onto him, but he could not move an inch. Shit. Shit.

“...M’fine.” He grumbled, harsher than he meant it to be. Anyone else would have felt threatened. (Y/N) just frowned.

“You’re clearly not.” He felt them move steadily closer. “Juza, you know it’s okay if you made a mistake, right?”

Shit. He did, but he had to say it now. He had already said it.

“I—I mean, I wasn’t expecting it but… I’m sure it’s not so easy to remember all those lines, right?”

No hiding anymore.

“It wasn’t.” He looked straight ahead now, his mouth practically moving of its own accord. “A mistake, I mean.” He took a sharp intake of breath. “Or part of the script, I—…”

“...Said it ‘cos I meant it.”

(Y/N) froze in place, as if that was all he’d needed to say. “Wait— you meant it— I…” He didn’t know why they were so surprised. If he hadn’t fallen for them by now he would’ve been an idiot.

“So—… So that wasn’t part of the—…”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence fell between them.

“...I’m sorry. Ya’ don’t have to say anything.”

He turned away. Now he’d gone out and said it, Juza knew the best thing he could do now was leave. Forget it ever happened.

He wouldn’t forget the way (Y/N) had closed the distance between them, throwing their arms firmly around his neck to halt his withdrawal.

He could feel the warmth of their flushed cheeks and the fluttering of their eyelashes. It was something that really shouldn’t have happened, but their lips felt real against his. They tasted sweet.

His heartbeat pulsed in his throat as they drew back, still close enough to exchange breathless sighs.

“I—...” Juza felt his face burn red. What had just happened?

“Um— me too.” (Y/N) said quietly. They looked like he felt, their earlier boldness tapering off into a meek . “...Kinda for a while now.”

Their grip slackened, but he counteracted with an almost involuntary hold of his own. They leaned into him.

“...You’re...Sure?” He said quietly, almost afraid they’d disappear if he didn’t keep them close to him, physically.

“Yes.” They stated, a hard sureness to their voice. He felt his stomach tighten, subject to a thousand butterflies. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes.” With finality, and with newfound confidence leaned in to kiss (Y/N) again, locked in true embrace.

They stayed like that for a long time.

—

Requested by @nervwrecked, I hope it’s soft enough for you! If I’m being honest, Juza (and love scenes in general...) is kinda hard for me to write? Yikes

Thanks for the ask! •v•