#the foreshadowing in this show is hurting me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heartkaji · 5 months ago

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Oh my days

#. LOVE ME AS YOU TEAR ME APART

featuring 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

angst + fluff + slight suggestive. being friends with takiishi chika, was equal to being on a super dangerous rollercoaster ride, well friends is a word you choose to use despite him not fitting into that category knowing that you are not friends and you will never be.

wc :: 13k. written without any new information about takiishi’s past. SHORT HAIRED CHIKA. original characters added for the sake of the story(not self insters). it's all a figment of my imagination. enjoy reading while listening.

taglist :: @maruflix @heartkaji @y2kuromi @stunie @haiaus @17020

Always be careful of men because you can get hurt if you play with fire for too long. Your mother's words had been ringing in your head every single second since you were born and you couldn't blame her even if you wanted to. Because she was always right about absolutely everything and everyone, as much as you didn't want to listen to her, thinking she didn't understand what it was like to be a teenager with raging emotions and a whole life ahead. Is love medicine or poison? Not even your mom knows the answer to that and you regret not listening to her, you regret calling her stupid and whatnot when you were the fool all along.

But that didn't stop you from seeing him, the boy who was his own hero and villain. His name was coming out of your mouth so sweetly when you asked him to play on the playground, but he pelted you with sand and you cried out loud. Why is a four-year-old so ill-mannered? Where are his parents? Everyone else was wondering this as your mother took you in her arms and started soothing you by gently stroking your hair. “It's okay darling, mommy is here…”

Her voice is always so sweet like honey, but her look directed at the little red-headed boy was so fierce and cruel. He did not react in any way — like a doll, just a body without a drop of soul. It was normal for kids to mess with others but it was not normal the way he behaved like some monster, it spoke enough for his upbringing. When your mother decided to raise her voice, he looked up at you with those golden eyes like the sun and smiled ever so slightly and imperceptibly, and your little childish brain under the influence of the strong emotion of sadness thought he was mocking you.

“You shouldn't bully children like that! Didn't your mother and father teach yo — ?” the little boy just turned his back and walked away not caring what your mother had to say, because who does she think she is to tell him what is right or wrong? She is no one to him like he is to hers. “Hey, boy, come right back here!” but he neither turned nor returned and your mom just looked at you and kissed your forehead, sighing heavily. “When you grow up, be careful who you fall in love with, I don't want you to be with boys like him.” you were too young to understand her words, but this was the first time Takiishi Chika made you cry.

“Can you believe that some boy just threw sand at our little girl?” Making dinner also meant time to share problems within the family. And your mother is still angry with the behavior of the little boy while cutting the carrots not so calmly that your dad had to take the knife away from her. “He's a little kid, most guys tease the girls they like.” If you could go back in time you would have told your father that it wasn't true, to some extent it is, but in this case, you were bullied by some stranger, not liked.

The memory of that day in the playground lingered in your mind, even as years went by and you began first grade with all the excitement and nerves that came with a new school year. Your parents had been busy preparing everything for you: new uniforms, new shoes, and the most important thing of all, a sweet obento packed with love.

Your first day of elementary school was filled with introductions and new faces. The classroom buzzed with the sounds of children's chatter and laughter. You found yourself making friends easily, joining in games during recess, and sharing stories about dolls over lunch. The obento your mother made was a hit among your new friends, who admired the neat arrangement of rice, vegetables, and little sausages shaped like octopuses.

As you sit at the lunch table with your classmates, enjoying your meal and the happy company, when suddenly you get a feeling that someone is watching you. Glancing up, you saw him — the same boy from the playground three years ago. He was sitting at the other table just a short distance away, staring at you with those same unsettling golden eyes. He looked slightly older, but there was no mistaking him with that short red hair.

For a moment, you froze, the memories of that day flashing back. The sand in your eyes, the sound of your mother's soothing voice, and his cold, emotionless stare. He looked away just as you made eye contact, his expression unreadable and that mocking smile was nowhere to be found.

One of your girl friends, noticing your sudden quietness, nudged you gently. “Y/N-chan, are you okay? Is that your boyfriend?”

You forced a smile and shook your head. “N-no! He’s just... someone I knew from before. He threw sand in my face when I was three!”

“He’s older, you know,” one of them said, nudging you with a playful smirk. “A whole year older. That makes him extra cool.” Another added voice in the choir, “And a bad boy! I heard he’s always getting into trouble. Isn’t that exciting, Y/N-chan?”

You felt your cheeks flush, embarrassment and frustration coloring your face. “No way. I would never be with someone like him!” Your friends exchanged glances, giggling. “You know what they say, right?” one of them teased. “If a boy likes you, he’ll tease you!”

You squint your eyes, being skeptical not wanting to give the idea any merit. Yeah, they can tease you, but not in a way that can make you go blind. “Don't be like my dad, Ami.” you retorted, recalling your dad’s words that echoed your friends' sentiments. Your mom always told you that teasing wasn't equal to affection, especially in such a harsh manner.

As the laughter continued, you watched him get up from the table, expecting him to come over or do something disruptive. But to your surprise, he just walked past you, not even glancing your way.

“See, you’re just like a princess waiting for her prince to save her from the poisoned apple with a kiss,” another friend teased, making everyone laugh again. “Maybe he’s just shy,” another one suggested with a smiling face, “Or maybe he’s planning something really special.”

If there was sand in this special thing you rather stay home and watch scary movies that make you unable to sleep. You didn't want to have anything to do with him, you were even starting to forget him, but apparently, life wanted you to remember the incident at the playground for the rest of your life.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you and your friends headed back to class. It was P.E. time, and you were all excited to play outside. The sun was shining brightly, and the playground was bustling with activity. You and your friends decided to pretend you were mermaids, splashing around an imaginary ocean, while others were fairies fluttering about.

As you laughed and played, you noticed the second graders also had P.E. at the same time. They were on the other side of the field, playing various games. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, all alone, away from the group, kicking a football ball around.

You tried to ignore him, focusing on your game. But then, without warning, you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head. You crumpled to the ground, clutching your head and crying out in pain. Your friends gathered around you, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. Through the blur of tears, you saw the football ball that he had been playing with, now lying a few feet away from you. The teacher rushed over to check on you, while the second graders' teacher called out sternly, "Takiishi, to the principal's office!"

You looked up, still crying, and saw him walking away, a big red dot retreating into the distance. Tears streamed down your tender face as you held your head in your hands.

As the teachers helped you to your feet and checked for any serious injury, your friends whispered among themselves, some still giggling nervously. "He did it on purpose," one of them said. "Or it was just an accident," another suggested, but this wasn't Snow White or Sleeping Beauty waiting for their prince when they fell to be awakened by a kiss. It was real bullying but the other girls thought it was something romantic straight out of a fairy tale or a movie.

You didn't want to hear his name or see him anymore. But your parents taught you not to judge people, trying to push away the idea that he might have hurt you on accidnet knowing he did it on purpose. And speaking of parents, surely they will be angry, well at least your mom will be pissed knowing what this boy has done before and your dad will take it as an accident. You wished he was like the other boys, or maybe to behave like a real prince. At six years old you asked yourself the question: What did I do wrong?

The teachers decided it was best for you to sit out the rest of P.E. in the shade, and your friends stayed close, trying to cheer you up. “It’s okay, Y/N-chan!” Ami said hooking her arms with yours “My big sister cries all the time because of the boy she likes!”. Despite their efforts, the incident left another core memory in your childish brain — Takiishi Chika made you cry for a second time.

For your ninth birthday, you got the toy you saw on commercials every day. Yes, you may be a little too old for such things, but you're never too young to have fun. And that's why you and your friends agreed that tomorrow in class everyone should bring their dolls so that you can play.

It was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to run in the classroom, not in a circle trying to get your doll from a group of boys who were neither your age nor a year older, it seemed that they were at least twelve. Your heart races as you sprint down the hall, tears blurring your vision. Your precious doll, a cherished birthday gift, is clutched in the rough hands of boys who tower over you, their laughter echoing like cruel music in your ears. "Please, give it back! I won't tell the teacher, I promise!" you plead, voice trembling.

The boys laugh louder, one of them tossing your doll down the hall. You flinch, expecting to hear the sickening thud of your doll hitting the ground, but instead, you hear rapid footsteps. In an instant, the boys are on the ground, sprawled out in various states of shock and pain.

You freeze, fear tightening your chest. What if you're next? What if you never see another Winx transformation or find out what happens in One Piece? Shivering, you try to move but your body refuses to obey.

The figure before you is unmistakable. The red and yellow hues, the aura of danger—it's him. He stares at you, blinking a few times before that same mocking smile from six years ago spreads across his face. His gaze, cold and intense, feels like it's piercing through you. He doesn't speak, doesn't move—just stares. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. You wonder what he's thinking, why he's acting this way, but no answers come.

Before you can react, another voice pierces the tension. "Hey, don't cry now, here is your doll!" It's another boy, holding your now broken doll. You recognize him, he is with the redhead all the time, but his name eludes you. He hands it gently, and you accept it, despite its broken state. It's still yours.

"Takiishi, is that your girlfriend?" the blue-eyed boy asked but Takiishi ignored him. He steps over the fallen bodies, giving you one last look with those warm eyes that showed coldness, unwavering, as if searching for something within you.

"Hey, wait up for me~ It was nice meeting you!" the same boy shouts, running after the delinquent. You stand there, hugging your doll, still covered in goosebumps. Even though the fear was overpowering, you felt relieved at the same time.

For the first time, Takiishi Chika made you smile. It was a small, tentative smile, but it was there. The boy who once haunted your nightmares has given you a reason not to buy Dreamcatchers.

Being thirteen meant you were growing up, entering your teenage years, and you had to be cool, even if you had a strong obsession with that one band and several dozen movies and TV shows. You kept it cool, but when you were with your friends you were giggling like the middle school girls, in fact you are in middle school. For the past four years, you had a strange relationship with Takiishi Chika, the boy who had once been the monster in your fairy tale. After the doll incident, things changed. No one dared to cause you any harm or say anything to your address, knowing you had something going on with and although your friends jokingly call him your boyfriend, you know better. He is not and never will be your Prince Charming. Yet, you've grown used to his presence, tolerating him as best as you can.

Today was special, you felt like it was going to be. You had borrowed your mother's makeup, hoping she wouldn't notice. The thrill of trying something new made your heart race as you carefully applied pink lip gloss and mascara. It was simple, but the compliments from your friends made you feel like you had discovered a hidden superpower, even thinking that your favorite idol would ask you to be his girlfriend. You wore your makeup all day, and the compliments and flattery did not stop even after your school club activities ended, you decided to visit your favorite spot, the rooftop, with some leftover snacks.

The rooftop was your hiding place where you could escape and dream. The open sky seemed to stretch forever, and you loved the feeling of the breeze playing with your hair. Here, you could be yourself, indulging in daydreams about your favorite group and the countless movies and TV shows you adored.

As you stood admiring the view, just staring at the horizon, lost in thought. That was until you heard a familiar voice. Turning your head slightly you saw the source of the voice that belonged to Endo Yamato, and Takiishi Chika had climbed up and was watching from above. You tensed slightly, hoping they wouldn't notice you, but luck wasn't on your side.

"Hey, Takiishi, your girlfriend is here!" Endo's voice rang out, making you sigh. Not again with the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Why does everyone have to call you that? He more or less tried to kill you, and he did it twice either with sand or a football ball.

"I am not his girlfriend, Endo," you said, annoyance clear in your voice. His teasing smile widened as he replied, "Then why are you wearing makeup? The whole school talked about how cute Takiishi's girlfriend is."

That left you confused. Other students talked about you being pretty? Being Takiishi Chika's pretty girlfriend? That couldn't be true, as he always talked nonsense, and expecting an answer from the red-haired boy was like expecting a lion to eat plants - it would never happen.

"You are so weird. No one said anything like that," you retorted, crossing your arms, and glaring at Endo, who still had that teasing smile plastered on his face. Before you could say anything more, Takiishi jumped down from a slightly higher place, landing between you and Endo.

"See, he is coming to greet you. He never leaves this spot—" Endo's words were cut off as Takiishi swung at him. Endo dodged the punch, grinning as he realized it was his cue to leave.

Now it was just you and Takiishi Chika. When you are with him, your heart burns and you don't know why. As always, he looked at you with that soulless look, his eyes still radiating emptiness, even though all his expression was something, it was nothing to you. You tried to find the right words. "Do you have always to do that?" you finally asked, referring to his sudden appearance and equally sudden aggression. His only response was a slight shrug as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Why do you always show up out of nowhere?" you pressed on. "And why does everyone think we're dating?"

Takiishi's eyes flickered for a moment, a hint of something passing through them, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Does it matter?" he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. You couldn't stand the silence, the lack of answers, the emptiness that seemed to consume every interaction with him. Each time you tried to break through his cold exterior, you felt yourself growing more frustrated, more desperate for some sign of humanity. Today, though, was different, you have reached your limit.

"Why don't you care?" Your voice wavered your anger and hurt mingling in your words. "For the past ten years, you've done nothing but humiliate me, throwing things my way, harshly shoving me out of your way. Why do you behave like some monster?" A hiccup escaped your lips, and you could feel the tears welling up, the dam finally breaking once again.

Takiishi just stared at you, his eyes as empty as ever. His lack of reaction only fueled your rage. "I tried my best to be good, to be a human and a friend to you. But you haven't changed." The words tumbled out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw. You didn't know what had possessed you to admit what you felt to someone who seemed incapable of feeling anything.

Was it because of last week when he tripped you on the stairs, and you had to lie to your mom about falling during a volleyball game? Or when he almost punched you just because you told him he had to go to class?

You tried to find the right words, to make him understand, to make him care. "Why?" you finally asked, your voice trembling. "Why do you show up out of nowhere and act like I'm some sort of target?"

Chika harshly grabbed your wrist, he was holding it very tight, and could have broken your arm at any second, as you winced at the sudden pain. "Let me go!" you demanded, trying to wrench your hand free. But he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled you closer, his breath warm against your face. And then, without warning, he kissed you on the lips. Your mind went blank. Not knowing how to react or what to think. The kiss was rough and forceful, lacking any tenderness or affection. It felt more like a punishment than a gesture of what others could call love. When he finally pulled away, you were left gasping for breath, your heart pounding in your chest like it was going to burst out at any moment.

You stumbled back, your wrist still aching from his grip. "What is wrong with you?" you shouted, your voice cracking with a mix of anger and confusion. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as if trying to erase the memory of his kiss.

He just stood there, watching you with that same inscrutable expression. "You can't just do that to people," you continued, your voice trembling as you were breathing heavily. "You can't just… do whatever you want."

But his eyes never wavered, and his expression never changed. It was as if he hadn't heard a word you said, as if your pain and unknown emotions deep inside your heart hidden away, meant nothing to him. And in that moment, you realized that maybe they didn't.

You took a step back, needing to put some distance between yourself and him. "Stay away from me, I hate you." you said, your voice steadier now. Hate was a strong word and it wasn't just said out of nowhere, but he deserved it. "Monster."

That special moment for every single girl who was or was about to fall in love was taken away from you, your first kiss stolen by someone like him. You knew you should hate him, despise him for what he had done. But a part of you, a small, irrational part, still wanted to understand him, to reach out to the person hidden behind the locked doors of his soul. But as you turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end, that he wasn't done with you yet. Takiishi Chika made you cry for a third time. And that thought was more terrifying than anything else.

Words came out of his mouth after you were no longer here, but only he heard them, almost as a whisper to himself. "You are pretty." They were meant to be an aside, a secret confession cloaked in madness, but now they felt like a ghost, haunting the empty space where you used to be.

The sweet sixteen — from caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly in the endless garden called life. You grew, mentally and physically, more mature than you were a few years ago in middle school. And now look at you, first year in high school, new place and with new people, it was so nostalgic when you thought about your first day of school.

The laughter, the smiles... and the tears. Despite everything that had happened a whole decade ago, the past is past — forgive and forget. There was no room in your head to think about it anymore, not when your boyfriend was waiting for you. Was your mother showing him baby pictures of you again? This woman loves to embarrass you, but it can't be helped, you are her only daughter.

"Ah, here she is three years old, she loved playing in this sandbox until some spoiled brat threw sand at her." you overhear her say. She still holds a grudge against him. His name has become a taboo subject, and she’d freak out if she found out he kissed you — that’s why she doesn’t know. In fact, no one does. "Mom, you should stop showing Kirihito my baby photos every time he is here," you say as your boyfriend chuckles, and your mom gets up and goes to the kitchen.

"Come and get your lunch," she calls, but before you leave the house, she tells you to be careful with Kirihito Yuu. It's your first boyfriend, and not every first try is going to be good or as expected, she wanted to protect you from bad news.

"Be careful, darling. Don't play with fire for too long or you will get burned." She doesn't understand what it's like to be a teenager with raging emotions and a whole life ahead. Your mother should stop being so judgy. She doesn't know Kirihito like you do.

"You are ridiculous, Mom," you roll your eyes as you put the bento in your bag. This conversation has been going on for almost 5 months since they found out you had a boyfriend and apparently they won't stop hinting at it.

"Just don't come back crying when he breaks your heart."

You don't say anything, your scoff is enough. Everyone likes him; why can't she? Even your dad is on her side with this. But you pay them no mind like you started doing when you entered puberty. You know everything; your parents know nothing.

Arriving at your school's gate, he holds both of your hands. "I'll see you later?" you ask, feeling his body warmth. The thing is you're going to an all-girls high school, and your boyfriend attends Furin High School. Its reputation isn't great, and your parents don't like him because they see him as one of those vulgar hooligans.

But no one could beat Takiishi Chika in terms of being the most horrible person you've ever met. He had a reputation for being extremely violent. He didn't care about anything and you knew it best by being his play toy. Even in his first year of junior school, he beat someone supposedly stronger than him, and he caused fear wherever he walked.

Wait... Did you just think about him again?

"Are you okay, love?" your boyfriend asks, his voice pulling you back to the present. You nod your head, trying to shake off the unsettling memories. "Just being nervous is all." You smile at Kirihito, unlike someone else, he's never bullied you or been cold. Instead, he's always been your safe haven. You're not ready to say those three words yet, but you know your feelings for him run deep.

“You got this. Call me if you need anything, all right?” he said as you nodded your head, blushing as he went on his way to Furin High. It always felt like the beginning of a different world, one that you were both a part of and completely separate from. As he walked through the school gates, he was always on time for classes, or "meetings," as they liked to call them.

A whistle made its way to his ears as he saw his team leader and bowed his head. "Unusual for you to be late," the leader said, voice teasing. "Did you rob a bank or something? You look a little bit too happy."

Kirihito looked up, his piercing red eyes meeting his upper's blue ones. The leader's smirk grew wider, sensing something out of the ordinary. "I was just walking my girlfriend to her school," Kirihito said nonchalantly, though a slight tinge of pride colored his usually stoic tone.

The main reason why Furin was like it was, a place where chaos and destruction ruled was because of Endo Yamato, he was pretty well known in and outside most schools. "Oh! Girlfriend, you say? Is she cute?" curiosity piqued, as he leaned in slightly, eager for more details about this unexpected aspect of Kirihito's life.

"I guess she is," he replied, his voice flat and devoid of enthusiasm.

"You don't sound like you love her," the leader remarked, raising an eyebrow at Kirihito's indifference "That's because I don't," face dull and his voice detached from emotion. His eyes, however, held a fleeting sadness, hinting at deeper complexities within him. Endo watched him for a moment longer, intrigued by the contradiction of Kirihito's actions and his apparent lack of feelings. "Well, best of luck breaking up with her."

But his curiosity didn't stop there, it was after a few hours when Endo's eyes followed Kirihito as he moved through the bustling schoolyard, a catlike grace to his steps that belied the darkness within him. He trailed behind, his presence unnoticed by the rest of the students who were preoccupied with their own dramas and distractions.

It wasn't long before he saw Kirihito meet up with a girl who broke into a smile as she approached him, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her boyfriend. A very familiar face. Hold on… Is that you? Kirihito's demeanor shifted slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible softness in his otherwise cold exterior. He reached out and took your hand, guiding you away from the crowd of students and towards a quieter part of the campus.

It was really you. L/N Y/N.

Endo Yamato hit the jackpot, he couldn't believe it. After three years he finally saw you again. He snapped a photo of the two of you with his phone, the click of the camera shutter masked by the noise of the school around him. As he reviewed the image, a slow smile spread across his face. You had grown even prettier since he last saw you before you transferred to another middle school, your features more refined, your presence more captivating. It was no wonder Takiishi was infatuated with you.

He lingered in the shadows, watching as the both of you turned to leave in the direction of the city center. “On a date, huh?” prying eyes remained fixed on you, noting the way you stood for a moment, watching Kirihito retreat before holding your hand.

He knew exactly where to find you now, how you looked, and who you were with. Takiishi would be very interested in this information because he didn't bother to like anything else besides violence. The thought of delivering such news to him filled Endo with such happiness.

As you walked hand in hand with Kirihito, the city around you seemed to fade into the background. You were lost in the moment, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you, making you feel safe and cherished. You had longed for something like this—for love, a simple date just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without any worries.

You both decided to stop by your favorite café, the soft murmur of conversations and the gentle clinking of cups created a cozy atmosphere. As you settled into a corner booth, you couldn't help but notice Kirihito's face clouded with a hint of sadness.

"Baby, what's wrong? Did a fight break out again?" you asked, your voice filled with concern and anxiety.

Kirihito glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. "Don't worry, just a rough start to the day. Nothing that your smile can't fix," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You blushed at his comment, warmth spreading through you. Kirihito's words had a way of making you feel special, even when he was hiding his own troubles. Meanwhile, he couldn't shake the thought of how annoying and clingy you were. But despite that, he couldn't deny that you were pretty — the only thing he liked about you.

Meanwhile, Endo's mind was racing with plans. He knew Takiishi would want to know about your relationship with Kirihito. He couldn't wait to see the chaos that would unfold. Slipping away from the busy street, making his way through the narrow alleyways his sharp eyes scanning every corner. The scent of damp asphalt mixed with the faint metallic tang of blood. He found a tall dark silhouette against the dim alleyway lights, standing over several unconscious bodies. Takiishi’s fists were clenched, his breath coming in heavy, angry bursts.

"Takiishi," Endo called out, his voice steady despite the chaotic scene. Chika turned, his golden eyes blazing with a fire that seemed to burn through the shadows. "You fought these guys a week ago. Give them a break."

Endo stepped closer, carefully avoiding the bodies sprawled on the ground. "I was about to tell you something," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "But I realized you might need one more day."

Takiishi's anger could have been seen, an almost physical force radiating from him. "One more day for what?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

"To enjoy," Endo replied, his tone teasing as ever. "Before everything changes." He knew well enough that telling Takiishi about you would ignite a firestorm; his temper was like a blazing inferno, consuming everything in its path when provoked.

Takiishi's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "What are you planning?"

Endo shrugged "You'll find out soon enough, don’t wanna spoil the birthday surprise."

Takiishi stared at him, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as he processed Endo's words, but the redhead paid him no mind because he always talked like that. He left the scene, probably in search of something else to entertain him, as the other followed him like a loyal dog.

As they walk around the city, the usual noise of traffic and chatter blends into a monotonous hum. The streets are busy, and the neon lights cast a colorful glow on the pavement. Takiishi barely listens to Endo's stories about the latest drama in Furin, his mind wandering.

Then, out of nowhere, you appear. Standing alone at the bus stop, your presence strikes Takiishi like a bolt of lightning. He doesn’t know how he spotted you in the crowd, and he doesn’t care. All he knows is that his chest tightens and his brain goes numb. He doesn't care about you. He won't question why you left, won't let himself feel anything. But why is his body moving towards you?

Endo's voice calls out to him, urging him to stop. "Takiishi, wait!" His friend's hand grabs his arm, trying to pull him back. Without thinking, Takiishi spins around and punches Endo hard in the face. The crack of bone against bone is a well-known melody by now.

"Don't get in my way," Takiishi snarls, his voice a low growl. It's not just a warning—it's an order.

But when he looks back to the bus stop, you're gone. The bus pulls away, carrying you out of his reach. The moment passes, and he’s left staring at the taillights disappearing into the distance.

Takiishi turns back to Endo, who is clutching his jaw and staring at him in shock. The fire in his eyes dims slightly as he processes what he’s done, but he doesn’t apologize, he never does. Endo mutters something under his breath, probably a curse, expecting something like this to happen.

Chika walks alone now, and the reality of what just happened sinks in. The city buzzes around him, indifferent to his mess. He feels the sting of regret but pushes it down. There’s no room for that now. Not when he wasn't done with you, not when he needed you.

It was hard work, even when you put in extra hours after school. With one of your coworkers out sick, you had to juggle the cash register and sorting products in the warehouse simultaneously. The bell over the door jingled, and your remaining coworker nudged you, urging you to check on the new arrival.

"Hello, sorry for making you wait. What can I do for y—?" Your sentence trailed off in shock as you looked up and saw the customer. "Endo?" Standing in front of the register, he appeared taller and more fit than you remembered, but his expression was unchanged, though you noticed a few bloodstains on his face.

"Long time no see, cutie~," he greeted you with a teasing tone.

You forced a smile, masking your panic. "What are you doing here?" It was a stupid question, you knew, but his sudden appearance and choice of a nickname threw you off.

"What? I can't buy myself a drink now?" he pouted playfully as he placed two energy drinks on the counter. "You live on the other side of town, where they certainly have the same drinks."

You scanned the items, and he paid with more than necessary. "Keep the change." He took the drinks but didn't leave. "What?" you asked, feeling uneasy.

"I came here to talk to you. As they say, the customer is always right, and you should attend to his needs."

You sighed, glancing at the clock. It was nearly closing time, and as much as you wanted to say no, you reluctantly agreed. Sitting outside, he opened one drink and handed you the other, claiming it was his treat. You murmured a thanks, sipping it quietly. Despite the silence, it wasn't awkward. Questions swirled in your mind: why was he here? Had he been in a fight?

"Who did you fight this time?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you, knowing how he was getting targeted.

"Your boyfriend," he replied calmly. Kirihito had landed a punch on Endo? That couldn't be true. Kirihito wasn't the type to get into fights, especially not with someone like Endo. Besides, you and Kirihito kept things private, away from the Furin guys. "Takiishi's been doing well, though it's been rough after you broke up with him," he continued, poking at an old wound.

Not this again. Takiishi Chika wasn't your boyfriend. You never broke up with him; you ended whatever twisted relationship you had after he treated you like nothing. But explaining that to Endo would be pointless. He thrived on these messy entanglements, relishing the drama.

"Endo, I'm not in the mood for this," you said, hoping to steer the conversation away from painful memories, but deep down you wanted to ask him so many things

"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that. I'm just here to catch up," he said, his tone mockingly innocent. "It's been too long. You can't tell me you haven't missed me a little."

You sighed again, knowing this conversation wasn't going to end quickly. "What do you want from me?" He leaned back, looking up at the sky and then at you. "I want to know how you've been. And maybe... just maybe, I want to see if you wanted to hang out someday, just like the old times."

You rolled your eyes. "No, thank you. I have a boyfriend.” and before you could say more, he chuckled. Oh, how much he loves knowing things other people didn’t. Your boyfriend was a complete jerk, a weakling, someone who was a waste of air on the Furin grounds. But he will make you see it yourself, the morning is wiser than yesterday, and he will look forward to it.

The night air was cool and refreshing the street lights casting a faint glow on Endo's face. He sipped his drink, a smirk on his lips as if he were savoring every moment. You could tell he was playing games like he always did. He was more like a mastermind, instead of a player.

Endo’s gaze lingered on you, and he finally said, “You know, Y/N, it's strange. I always thought we had a good thing going. Even if it was a bit chaotic.”

You frowned, not sure where he was headed. It was chaotic for him, but it was traumatic for you. “We had a lot of things going on, but I wouldn’t call it good.” He shrugged, unaffected by your words. “Fair enough. I suppose I’m just nostalgic. Those days had a certain charm.”

It was clear he wanted to probe deeper, to stir up emotions you’d rather leave in the past. But you decided to change the subject. “Where are you hitting at?.”

He tilted his head, considering your question with a thoughtful look. “I missed you,” he said finally, though his tone was light, almost playful. “Or maybe I just wanted to see how you’re doing, to remind you that not everything is as perfect as it seems.”

You didn’t want to dwell on his riddles. Instead, you took a deep breath and tried to focus on the present. “Look, it’s late, and I have a busy day tomorrow. It’s probably best if we wrap this up.”

Endo’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, almost genuine smile. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you a VIP pass.” He stood up, stretching a bit as if preparing to leave. “But before I go, I want you to remember something.”

You looked up at him, waiting. “What is it?”

He took a moment, studying you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly. “Life has a way of throwing surprises at us, and sometimes, it’s worth keeping an open mind. Don’t be too quick to dismiss what’s right in front of you.”

Before you could respond, he took a step back, his expression shifting to one of casual indifference. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams~”

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. You watched him go, very confused, wondering what kind of mess you had gotten yourself into without knowing it. The encounter had left you with more questions than answers, and as you headed back inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Endo’s words would linger in your mind long after he was gone. Just like you were thinking about another man when you were already in a relationship, sometimes you can't get rid of the past if it just keeps coming back to you.

You groaned softly as you woke up from the weird dream, feeling the remnants of confusion like a hungover. Endo, of all people, was in your dream, and yet, there had been something unsettlingly real about it. Blinking in the morning light, your eyes fell on the pitcher of the drink he’d given you yesterday. It was still there as if mocking the boundaries between your dreams and reality.

Rubbing your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the date. June 21st stared back at you from the screen, bringing with it the gentle reminder of an important milestone. A message from Kirihito popped up, as you read his sweet, heartfelt message, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He had planned a special dinner for the two of you tonight, a gesture that spoke volumes about how much he cared.

Happy seven months to us, my love! It's hard to believe it's already been seven months since we started this incredible journey together. Every day with you has been a blessing, filled with laughter, love, and countless memories that I cherish deeply, every moment spent with you is a moment I hold dear. You bring so much joy and light into my life, and I’m grateful for your love, kindness, and the beautiful soul that you are. You’ve made me a better person, and I can’t wait to see where our journey takes us next. Thank you for being my partner, my best friend, and my everything. I love you more than words can express. I love you <3

But as the warmth of his words enveloped you, a nagging thought wormed its way into your mind. There was something else you were supposed to remember today, something that felt like it was just out of reach. But as hard as you tried to remember, it slipped through your fingers like sand. You were looking forward to the evening with your boyfriend; it would be special, just like every moment you spent together.

As you tried to push the nagging thought aside, the memory of last night crept back in. The way Endo just appeared out of nowhere and started saying things to you that somehow made sense. You shook your head, determined to focus on the present. Kirihito’s message was a bright spot in your day, a reminder of the love and connection you shared. You set your phone aside, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead, and resolved to enjoy every moment of it.

After all, the present was where your heart truly lay. The past, with its fleeting dreams and unresolved questions, could wait until you were ready to confront it.

You got up, getting ready for school when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. "Come in!" you said as the door opened and your mother entered, holding a decorated pink box.

"Special delivery for you," she announced as she got closer to you and you took the box from her. It was elegantly wrapped, with a delicate ribbon tied perfectly around it. You recognized the handwriting on the attached card immediately: it was from Kirihito. Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully opened the box. Inside, nestled in soft tissue paper, was a stunning golden bracelet with the letter K elegantly engraved. It shimmered in the morning light, and a smile spread across your face.

Your mother's presence, however, quickly brought you back to reality. She stood there, a complicated expression on her face, of concern and disapproval. Sensing her impending lecture, you felt a wave of frustration rise within you.

"If you are going to say something bad about him, leave. I don't want to deal with your antics today," you snapped, the harshness of your tone surprising even yourself. You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring how it looked against your skin.

Your mother's eyes narrowed, and she took a step back, hurt flickering across her face. "You will regret talking like that to me," she said quietly, but with a firmness that made you pause. "But it's your choice if love is medicine or poison."

With that, she turned and walked out of your room, leaving you standing there, the bracelet suddenly feeling heavier than it did a moment ago.

You leave for school, the golden accessory gleaming on your wrist as a reminder of Kirihito's gift. The morning air is crisp, and you try to shake off the uneasy feeling your mother's words left behind. Your mind drifts as you walk, lost in thoughts of your boyfriend and the complicated web of emotions surrounding you.

But then you see it. That unmistakable flash of red hair in the distance, the distinctive black gakuran jacket that seems to draw all light into its inky depths, and those golden eyes that watch you from afar. Everything around you becomes silent and extinguished, as if the world itself has faded away, leaving only a singular path that leads to him.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your steps falter as you stare. His hair, still in the same short style, catches the morning light just right. Face was still so gentle yet rough, and his eyes were still full of nothingness, but this time it seemed like the golden and warm color didn't cotranslate with his soul when his pupils dilated. He's grown, no longer the boy you remember, but the change is striking. He used to be shorter than you, but now he stands tall, almost imposing, a figure out of a memory that feels both distant and hauntingly close.

Time seems to stretch as you both stand there, locked in each other's gaze. The world around you ceases to exist; there's only him and the unspoken history that ties you together. He begins to move, each step bringing him closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

Panic surged through you. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and started running. The sound of your footsteps echoed in your ears, but the only thing you could focus on was the sensation of his gaze following you. Your surroundings became a blur as you dashed down the street, your heart pounding louder with each step.

You didn't dare look back, afraid of what you might see—or feel—if you did. The world felt like it was closing in, the path ahead narrowing as you sprinted towards the school gates, seeking refuge in the familiar bustle of your classmates and the routines of the day.

Finally, you slowed down, breathless and shaken. You glanced back over your shoulder, but there was no sign of him. Yet the feeling of his eyes on you lingered, a reminder that some things from the past have a way of catching up, no matter how fast you run.

Behind you, you sense him still coming, a relentless presence that refuses to fade. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you push yourself harder, desperate to put distance between you and the figure from your past. The bracelet on your wrist feels like a burning brand, a reminder of the tangled emotions you can't escape.

You finally entered the school, the sight of familiar faces and the usual morning chaos offering a semblance of comfort. But the pounding of your heart and the image of his golden eyes wouldn't leave your mind. You made a beeline for the restrooms, seeking a moment of solitude to collect yourself.

Inside the quiet, sterile space, you approached the sink and turned on the tap. Cold water gushed out, and you cupped your hands to catch it, splashing your face repeatedly. The shock of the cold helped, but only slightly. As you lifted your head and looked into the mirror, your reflection stared back at you, water droplets mingling with the tears that had escaped your eyes.

Why do you feel this way? The question hung in the air, as you watched the tears and water flow down your face, leaving trails of confusion and heartache in their wake. You had everything you were supposed to want: a boyfriend who cared for you, a life that was steady and predictable. So why were you crying now?

Why does your heart beat so much for him but not for your boyfriend? The thought gnawed at you, your chest tightening with the realization. Kirihito was kind, caring, and had always been there for you. But the sight of Takiishi Chika had stirred something deep within you, something that had lain dormant for years.

Why do you love Takiishi Chika? You whispered the question to your reflection, the words feeling both foreign and familiar. He had always been a part of your life, he might have been an asshole to you but seeing him again had brought back a flood of memories, emotions you thought you had buried long ago. Takiishi Chika made you cry for the fourth time. Instead of being scared, you are more attracted to him, now.

The realization hit you like a wave, and you clutched the edge of the sink for support. The pain of the present and the echoes of the past merged into a confusing whirlwind inside you. How could you explain these feelings, even to yourself? The tears kept flowing, each drop a testament to the storm in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the questions persisted, their answers just didn’t exist.

As you stood there, lost in the labyrinth of your emotions, the school bell rang, jolting you back to reality. You quickly wiped your face, trying to compose yourself. The day had to go on, but the image of Chika, and the emotions he had stirred, lingered at the edges of your mind, refusing to be ignored.

The rest of the school day passed slow. You attended classes, answered questions when asked, and even smiled at your friends, but everything felt distant and detached. Your mind was elsewhere, lost in the tangled web of your emotions. Every time you glanced at your wrist, the bracelet Kirihito gave you shimmered back, reminding you of his presence, his love, and how different your feelings were now.

You barely tasted your lunch, pushing the food around your tray while your thoughts drifted back to Chika. The memories of him, the way he had looked at you that morning, kept replaying in your mind. It was a struggle to focus on anyone else.

By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you felt exhausted. The prospect of going home should have been a relief, but you knew it meant facing the evening ahead—a dinner with Kirihito that you now dreaded.

As you walked home, the air felt heavy, and each step took more effort than the last. When you reached your house, the usual comfort it provided felt hollow. You opened the door, expecting to be greeted by your mom and dad, but the house was eerily quiet.

You spotted a note on the living room table and picked it up, recognizing your mother's handwriting. "We'll be back at 10pm. If anything happens, call us. We love you. Mom and Dad."

The silence in the house amplified the turmoil inside you. You were completely alone, with nothing but your thoughts and the looming dinner with Kirihito to prepare for. The emptiness of the house mirrored the emptiness you felt creeping into your heart.

You made your way to your room, dropping your bag by the door. The thought of seeing Kirihito, of pretending everything was fine, felt overwhelming. You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection again. The tears from the morning had dried, but the confusion and heartache remained etched on your face.

Taking a deep breath, you began to get ready for the night. You chose an outfit carefully, one that you knew Kirihito liked, but the act felt mechanical, devoid of the excitement you used to feel. As you brushed your hair and applied a light touch of makeup, you couldn't shake the thought that this dinner might be the last.

Your mind kept drifting back to Chika, to the way he had looked at you, the unspoken connection that had reignited the feelings you had tried so hard to forget. The realization that your heart was drifting further away from Kirihito and towards Chika was painful, but undeniable.

You finished getting ready and sat on your bed, staring at your reflection one last time. Tonight, you would see Kirihito, and you hoped that somehow, you would find the strength to face the truth—both for his sake and your own.

As the time for dinner drew closer, you knew you had to leave soon. The house was still empty, your parents' absence a reminder that you were on your own in this. Taking one last deep breath, you stood up and headed towards the door, hoping that whatever happened tonight would bring you the clarity you desperately needed.

You took one last glance in the mirror, ensuring that your makeup was intact and your expression was as composed as possible. It was going to be rough to break up on an anniversary, but you knew it was better to end things now than to continue living a lie. You smoothed down your bright short red dress, feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingertips. The color was bold, perhaps too bold for how you felt inside, but you wanted to put on a brave front for Kirihito.

Deciding against heels, you slipped into a pair of comfortable sneakers and a black purse to match them. They were elegant enough to match your dress but practical, much like the decision you were about to make. The bracelet on your wrist glittered in the light, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

Stepping outside, you saw Kirihito waiting for you by the gate. His face lit up with a smile as soon as he saw you. His enthusiasm and warmth were always so genuine, and it pained you to know that you were about to hurt him.

"Wow," he said, eyes widening as you approached. "You look stunning."

"Thank you," you replied, forcing a smile. His compliment meant a lot, but the weight of what you had to do made it hard to fully appreciate it. Kirihito's gaze fell on the bracelet on your wrist, and his smile grew even wider. "I'm glad you liked the bracelet. It looks beautiful on you."

You glanced at the bracelet and then back at him, the words you needed to say heavy on your tongue. "It's lovely, Kirihito. Thank you."

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, let's go."

The walk to the restaurant was filled with casual conversation, Kirihito chatting animatedly about his day and plans for the future. You tried your best to engage, nodding and responding where appropriate, but your mind was elsewhere, already rehearsing the words you needed to say.

For two hours, you endured, trying to distract yourself by focusing on the person in front of you, rather than the one who had invaded your thoughts. Every time you glanced at Kirihito, you felt a pang of guilt. He deserved to know the truth, even if it would hurt him. You owed him that much.

After dinner, you walked hand in hand through the dimly lit streets, the tension between you growing with each step. You took a deep breath, knowing the moment had come.

"Kirihito, I think—" you started, but he cut you off.

"Please forgive me," he said urgently, his voice trembling. Before you could react, he dragged you into a dark alley nearby, his grip on your hand tightening.

"Kirihito, what are you—" Your words were cut off as he pinned you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours. His kisses trailed down your neck and collarbone, each touch making your heart race, but not in the way it once did.

"W-what—?" you moaned, confusion and discomfort mingling in your voice. This wasn't right. This wasn't what you had planned, and it certainly wasn't how you wanted things to go.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense. "I just... I need to feel close to you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

Your body responded instinctively, but your mind screamed in protest. You had talked about this before, about waiting until you felt ready, whether it was with him or someone else. This wasn't how you had imagined it. This wasn't what you wanted.

"Kirihito, stop," you said firmly, trying to push him away. "This isn't right."

Instead of listening, he laughed—a harsh, cruel sound that bore no resemblance to his usual sweet laughter. "Listen here," he said, his voice empty of any affection. "You are just a stupid doll with a beautiful body. Too bad you can’t do anything."

The words hit you like a physical blow. I wanted to remind you that not everything is as perfect as it seems. Panic surged through you as he grabbed your hands and kissed you forcefully, his touch making your skin crawl. You felt sick, and the realization that your mother had been right about him crashed over you with like a sudden and rapid tsunami.

Desperation fueled your actions as you struggled to break free. You kicked him between the legs, and he staggered back, a pained groan escaping his lips. But before you could escape, he pulled something from his pocket—a small, sharp object.

In a flash, he cut your wrist, and you cried out in pain. The searing sting made you gasp, but there was no time to react further. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you realized the immediate danger you were in. Summoning every ounce of strength, you tore away from him, kicking and hitting him, and ran away. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly, but you didn’t stop. The pain in your arm was sharp, but the fear of being caught was sharper.

You burst out of the dark place and into the street, your heart pounding in your chest. You glanced back only briefly to see Kirihito's shadowed figure retreating into the darkness. The world felt like it was spinning around you, and you ran as fast as you could, seeking safety out of the darkness.

Humiliated and betrayed. The sweet, loving facade Kirihito had presented was nothing more than a cruel act. All this time, he had been playing you, pretending to care just to satisfy his own desires. His words replayed in your mind: "You are just a stupid doll with a beautiful body." The disgust and hurt were overwhelming. You had been fooled into believing in a love that turned out to be nothing more than manipulation and deceit.

The pain in your wrist, while not life-threatening, was a constant, stinging reminder of how wrong things had gone. The cut hurt, but the emotional wounds were deeper, more painful. The agony of being used and belittled was a brutal blow, especially on what was supposed to be your anniversary—a day meant for celebration, now marred by violence and betrayal.

With your makeup smudged and your vision blurred by tears, you walked alone through the dark streets, feeling like a mess. The cold night air felt harsh against your skin, but the real chill was in the emptiness you felt inside. You stumbled, your heart shattered and your spirit crushed. You had no idea where you were going or what to do next.

In your daze, you collided with something—or rather, someone. You staggered back, mumbling an apology, "I-I am sorry." Your gaze was fixed on the ground, unable to meet the eyes of whoever you had bumped into.

"Who did this to you?" The voice was gentle but held a tone of underlying anger that made you shiver. You looked up slowly and were stunned to see the one man you thought about all day, Takiishi Chika standing before you. The sight of him was almost a mirage in your confused state.

His eyes were filled with nothing but pure rage and as he took in your disheveled appearance and the bloody wound on your wrist, his expression darkened. You have never seen him like that. "Y/N," he said, taking your hand in his, the movement was a bit harsh. "Who did this to you?"

You tried to speak, but your throat was tight with emotion. All the memories you had with him appeared in your head like a movie. As for him, he didn't care if you were at school or not, he didn't care when you left him three years ago, he didn't care when you ignored him, he didn't care after seeing you in tears because of another person.

Only he was allowed to make you cry.

Without waiting for an answer, Chika’s anger surged. “Come here, you bitch.” The voice was cold and determined as he turned towards the direction you had come from, storming off in the direction of Kirihito. You watched as he took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, a small gesture of comfort amid the chaos.

But as Takiishi moved past you, another figure emerged. Endo, with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine, placed a hand on your arm. “I knew he would like his birthday present, though I didn’t expect him to find you in such a state,” Endo said with a twisted grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—today was Takiishi’s birthday. You had forgotten in the midst of everything, and now everything felt like a cruel twist of fate. As Endo’s hand covered your eyes, you felt a surge of fear. “It’s better not to watch,” he said softly.

Confusion and fear mixed with the anger you felt. “Why is this happening? Kirihito, then you, Takiishi—What is going on?” you stuttered, your voice trembling.

Your question was swallowed by the sounds of a struggle as Takiishi and Kirihito faced off. The alleyway seemed to close in around you as Chika and Kirihito came into view. Kirihito, his demeanor now vicious and cruel, snarled at Chika.

Takiishi moved fast, faster than any beast or monster, his anger driving him. He charged at Kirihito, his movements a blur of strength and precision. Kirihito tried to block the assault, but Takiishi’s punches were relentless. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, and Kirihito struggled to keep up, his defenses crumbling under the onslaught. Chika’s fists connected with Kirihito’s jaw, sending him reeling against the wall. The force of the impact left Kirihito gasping for breath.

“Don't play with what's mine.” Takiishi growled, his voice dripping with fury. He grabbed Kirihito by the collar and slammed him against the wall, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and determination. That boy was a monster and he was becoming one because of you.

Kirihito’s attempts to fight back were feeble compared to Takiishi’s relentless assault. He tried to push him away, but Chika’s strength was overwhelming. With a final, powerful punch, Takiishi sent Kirihito sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left Kirihito sprawled on the pavement, barely conscious.

Breathing heavily, Takiishi stood over him, his chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. Kirihito, defeated and battered, looked up with a mixture of fear and pain.

“Touch her one more time,” Takiishi said coldly, his voice low and dangerous. ”And you are dead.”

As Kirihito tried to rise, Takiishi moved in, making it clear that he was done with him. The fight was over, and Kirihito’s attempts to get up were weak and futile. He slumped against the wall, his strength gone, as Takiishi stepped back.

Endo, still standing beside you, looked at the scene with a satisfied smirk. He removed his hand from your eyes, and you saw Takiishi standing tall, victorious, and Kirihito defeated on the ground. The sight was both a relief and a painful reminder of the turmoil you had just endured.

Chika’s gaze softened as he turned back to you, he reached out to touch your face gently, wiping away the remnants of your tears and smudged makeup. You didn’t seem fazed by the blood on his hands or the stains on his clothes. What mattered to him was the look of concern in his eyes this time they were not empty and cold, but warm and full of the sight of you.

He leaned in, his thumb gently caressing your cheek leaving a tint of your already red blush, lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the violence. The kiss was a desperate, passionate connection—a promise of solace amidst the chaos.

His lips moved against yours, each touch a balm to the emotional wounds that had been inflicted. There was an overwhelming sense of reassurance in his kiss, a silent vow that he would be there for you no matter what. It was both a declaration and a comfort, a way of saying everything he couldn’t express in words, everything he was being regretful for.

Endo, unable to resist making a final comment, let out a dry chuckle. “I’m still here, you know,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. “Not that it matters now.”

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world slipping further away, your senses dimming. Takiishi’s touch, and his kiss, were the last things you felt before the darkness enveloped you completely. The last thing you felt was the comforting solidity of Takiishi's arms as he caught you and held you close. The stressful night had taken its toll, but as you passed out in his arms, you knew that for now, you were safe.

Takiishi cradled your limp body in his arms, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry. His grip was gentle, as the weight of your unconscious form seemed to worry him, fueling his resolve to get you to safety. His gaze was locked on your face, a look of protectiveness in his eyes.

As he began to walk, the night air was cool against his skin, but his focus was solely on you. Each step he took was deliberate, each movement careful to ensure your comfort. Endo, trailing behind with a satisfied smirk, observed the scene with a sense. His role in the evening's events had gone according to plan, and he was content with the unfolding of the night. He walked leisurely, his hands in his pockets, his eyes occasionally glancing towards the scene before him.

Takiishi’s thoughts were focused on you, your well-being, and getting you home safely. Endo, on the other hand, seemed to view the situation in another way, as if the events were merely a dramatic play unfolding before him.

The clock had long struck midnight when they arrived at your home. The darkness of the night was only pierced by the dim, flickering light from a lamp inside. Takiishi, still holding you carefully in his arms, as Endo knocked on the door and rang the bell, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. The minutes ticked by slowly as they waited, the flickering lamp casting uneasy shadows across the front yard.

From inside, there was a murmured exchange, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled figure. Your mother’s tired eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of you, unconscious and cradled in Takiishi’s arms.

"Who the hell—" her voice cut off as she saw your limp form. Her gaze darted between you, Takiishi, and Endo, recognition dawning as she remembered the redhead from past encounters. "Y/N?" Her voice broke with worry and anger as she took in the blood on your wrist and the disheveled state you were in.

"What have you done to my daughter?" she demanded, her voice rising with both fear and rage. The sight of you in such a vulnerable state was more than she could bear.

Before she could say more, Endo stepped forward, his demeanor smooth, “We’re sorry for the way we’re bringing your daughter in,” he said, his tone deliberately calm. “But I think we’d better take care of her first and then explain the situation.”

Your mother’s eyes flitted between Endo and Takiishi, the latter still holding you with unwavering care. Her maternal instincts and concern for your health won out over her anger. Though her expression remained tight, she nodded reluctantly. “Right,” she said, her voice trembling. “First, her health. Then we’ll talk.”

She opened the door wider, allowing them to step inside. As they entered, your mother instructed, her tone sharp but her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and worry. “You come with me,” She directed Chika to follow her, clearly intending to discuss the situation in private.

Endo, with his characteristic smirk, raised an eyebrow. “And, you don’t touch anything or think about it,” he looked around the beautifully decorated living room said, his voice dripping with casual menace. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your mother’s eyes narrowed at Endo, but she didn’t have the luxury of confronting him at the moment. Her priority was to ensure your safety and to understand what had happened. She led Takiishi to a quieter part of the house, her steps brisk and purposeful.

As Takiishi followed, he glanced back once more at you, his face a mask of determined concern. The weight of the night’s events hung heavy, but a promise to take care of you. The confrontation with Kirihito had left its scars, but for now, the focus was on you.

Your mother’s eyes held a fierce determination as she led Takiishi through the dimly lit hallway. The sound of your breathing, shallow and uneven, filled the silence between them. She opened the bathroom door, the light from the ceiling casting a soft glow in the small room.

Without hesitation, she motioned for him to place you gently into the bathtub. The porcelain surface seemed stark and cold, but it was necessary for what needed to be done. As he carefully set you down, your mother began to unfasten the straps of your dress with a practiced efficiency born of both urgency and care.

Takiishi stood by, his eyes never leaving you, he could see the pain and vulnerability you were exposed to, and it weighed heavily on him. His heart ached for you, and his mind was consumed with worry.

Seeing your mother struggling slightly, he stepped forward to assist. “Are you going to watch or help?” her words were not meant to be harsh but rather a nudge to refocus the task at hand.

Your mother, though tense, appreciated the help. Takiishi removed your shoes and helped her ease off your dress. As the garment fell away, leaving you in your underwear, your mother worked quickly to assess your wounds. Her hands were steady, though her eyes revealed the depth of her concern.

“Go to your friend downstairs,” she instructed. “I’ll call you when we need to carry her.” There was an unspoken agreement in her tone—a mutual understanding that your immediate care took precedence over everything else.

Takiishi nodded, his expression serious as he stepped back. He cast one last look at you, his heart heavy with the burden. The bathroom door closed behind him, leaving your mother to tend to you.

The silence in the bathroom was filled only with the soft sounds of water and the gentle rustling of fabric as your mother carefully cleaned your wounds. Each motion was precise, driven by her need to help you heal and to make sense of the situation. “I told you that you would get burned. But I am glad you are safe.” she saw the golden bracelet and removed it, you won't need it anymore, so she will sell it, it's gold after all.

Outside, Takiishi’s steps were swift but measured as he made his way back downstairs and saw Endo fast asleep on the couch. A short while later, your mother called him back to the bathroom. “We’re ready,” she said softly, as he stepped inside, she motioned to the sink. “Wash your hands first.”

Takiishi nodded, moving quickly to comply. The water ran cold at first, then warm as he scrubbed away the remnants of the foreign blood. With clean hands, he turned back to you, now dressed in a clean shirt and pants, looking so peaceful and divine despite the hell you went through.

Gently, he lifted you into his arms again, cradling you with a tenderness that was so unnatural for him. As he carried you through the hallway to your room, your mother followed closely, her eyes never leaving you. Maybe he's not so bad, she thought. She always remembered him and saw him as some bad kid, a big troublemaker, and no matter how much your mother kept you out of trouble, it always came to you. Takiishi Chika was a big problem, but your mother knew that he was your big love.

Once in your room, Takiishi laid you down on your bed his touch lingering on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from yours. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—a kiss that, if your friends from first grade were here, would have made them giggle and say: I told you so, he was a prince!

He didn't know what was wrong with him or why he kept wanting to kiss you, he just knew that he could still taste your lipgloss when he kissed you for the first time. He was intoxicated. The only way he could get your attention was to be aggressive, that's what he was best at.

Just as his lips were about to touch yours, a gentle cough came from the doorway. “You, go shower,” your mother said softly. “I will let you and your friend sleep for tonight, the least I can do.”

Takiishi pulled back, reluctantly tearing himself away from you. He stood up and moved past your mother, who still commanded a certain presence that made him respect her, even if he’d never admit that she scared him when he was four. “I put my husband’s clothes out for you. And thank you,” she added, her voice sincere. If you wonder where your dad was, he was probably in a deep slumber, hard to wake up. But he will surely be more than grateful when he finds out what happened.

In the bathroom, Takiishi showered quickly, washing away the blood and sweat of the night. The warm water was soothing, providing a momentary escape from the weight of the past. Once clean, he dressed in the clothes your mother had left for him—simple, comfortable, and clean a contrast to the violence and tension he had just endured.

Returning to your room, he found it quiet and dimly lit. Your mother had left some food and water on a small table, a silent gesture of care. Takiishi approached the bed, his heart softening at the sight of you, as he already let you in it. He laid down next to you, careful not to disturb your rest. His fingers played gently with your hair, the soft strands a comforting distraction. You are pretty, inside and out.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. He didn't care that you were so close, and he probably didn't care that he loved you. Leaving you one last kiss on your lips, before falling asleep as he already fell for you thirteen years ago. You are mine. And he was yours.

The next morning, you wake up feeling extremely tired, your body sore and aching. A sharp pain shot through your hand as you tried to move it, reminding you of the events of the previous night. Groggy and disoriented, you attempted to sit up but found yourself unable to move. Someone’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you securely in place.

Panic surged through you, and you instinctively opened your mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape, a hand gently but firmly covered your mouth.

“Shut up and sleep,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear. It was Takiishi Chika.

His voice, though commanding, had a hint of softness to it. The initial shock started to fade as you realized who it was. The memories of the previous night began to flood back—Kirihito’s betrayal, Takiishi’s rescue, and the tender care he had shown you. Your breathing steadied as you processed the situation. He was in your bed, under the same blanket, your bodies closer than ever,

“We didn’t do anything, right?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you gulped. The question hung in the air, filled with a mix of apprehension and hope.

Takiishi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he rested his head gently against your shoulder, his warm breath brushing your skin. “No,” he finally said, his voice sleepy and hoarse. “We didn’t.”

Relief washed over you. It felt strange, like there was no weight pulling you back, free from the chains that were made of lies. You were ready to say those three words to the person who deserved them. “I love you, Chika,” you whispered. The way you said his name, instead of his surname or whatever nickname, felt intimate and personal. It made him feel strange. I love you. He was still learning, still getting used to you. To being soft, to feeling, to showing—to love. It was unfamiliar territory for him, but the sincerity in your voice and the trust you placed in him stirred something deep within.

As you closed your eyes, you felt his grip tighten briefly, a silent promise of protection and care, drifting back to sleep, Takiishi watched over you, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, but he knew that he wanted to be there for you, to protect you, to make sure you never felt that kind of pain again. And in that moment, as he held you close, he vowed to do just that. Despite his broken state. He’s still yours.

You got your answer, even if you play with fire and get burned, love is the medicine that will cure you of the poison. Takiishi Chika made you feel loved for the first time.

#KIKI ??? KIKI ??? HOW MANY TIMES DID I CALL YOUR NAME.#oh my god #this was actually a fucking read #like i’m speechless what do i even say #OKAY WAIT LETS DIGEST THIS #‘my sister always cries cuz of the boy she likes’ THAT PART MADE ME GASP #SO SAD THEYRE JUST KIDS 💔#AND THE PART IN THE HALLWAY W CHIKA ??#‘you’re beautiful’ oh my days #he’s just a silly baby boy who can’t express himself #KIRIHITO YOU FUCKING NPC #KYS BRO #also endo had me giggling #i love how he was trying to be mysterious dropping that silly foreshadowing #AND OML THE SHOW DOWN ??#‘i’m the only one allowed to hurt her’ OH !#JUST MY FUCKING TYPE BRO #CALL ME SICK BUT CHIKAAAAAA #YOU CAN HURT ME ANY DAY HABIBI #GO RIGHT AHEAD MY LOVE #oh my days kiki you actually snapped with this #like my jaw is literally in antarctica #sat down and read through this like it was english homework #oh my days #bless your soul kiki #ALSO FRIENDLY REMINDER TO EVERYINE THAT I (KINDA) SAW THIS FIRST #big flex fr #ty for this masterpiece 🙏#wind breaker #takiishi chika x reader

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stevie-petey · 6 months ago

Text

episode eight: the battle of starcourt

He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?” You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.” “I can sleep right now and find out–” “I will flick you again.” “A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 21.2k (ouch)

Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !

El’s screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. It’s unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart.

No one knows what to do.

Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with El’s. Take away her pain somehow. But you won’t let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive El’s panic further.

“What is that?” Disgust litters Erica’s face as she stares at the moving creature within El’s leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe.

“There’s something in her leg,” Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. He’s furious, he’s overwhelmed, he just wants to help. “Let go!”

Your arms tighten around the boy. He isn’t in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. “Jonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.” He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. “Grab it.”

Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you don’t accept it. “Go and disinfect it. There’s a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we can–” you swallow as nausea fills you. “We–we have to cut it out of her leg.”

The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. “I need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.”

“Right, okay.” Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. “Hey, stay awake, okay?”

You tug Steve towards El’s legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. “Get her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.”

Both boys do as they’re told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. “Robin, hey. You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan returns, out of breath. “Okay. Alright, El?” He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”

El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. “Sweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.”

“I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,” Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”

Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for what’s about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. “Hold her shoulders. Don’t let her go, no matter what.”

He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. “Do it.”

“Okay,” Jonathan inhales. The knife you’ve given him shakes as he holds it over El’s wound. He’s fucking terrified, but he knows it’s the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and El’s screams tear from her chest.

Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way El’s body convulses, the screams she releases, it’s all too much. You don’t feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you.

“Thank you,” your breathing is shaky. You aren’t even sure if he’s heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. He’s doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her.

You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by El’s scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at what’s happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathan’s fingers are now in El’s leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you.

Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.

“Goddamn it!” Jonathan can’t find it. He can’t find whatever the hell is in El’s leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood.

“No!” El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. “Stop it!”

You can’t stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. “I can do it.

“Do what, El?” You ask, though you think you know anyways.

She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. She’s sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. There’s a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it.

To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You can’t imagine it.

El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from El’s leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in El’s leg makes you feel ill.

With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopper’s boot crashes down upon it, killing it.

You’ve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch.

Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. It’s been days since you’ve last seen her. You’re more homesick than you’ve ever been before.

Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man you’ve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. “Murray?”

“You know him?”

Jonathan nods at you. “He’s the detective Nance and I visited last year.”

“He’s insane.” Nancy says, though there’s a nostalgic smile on her face.

Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. “Always at the scene of the crime, huh?”

“Yeah,” you blow hair out of your face. “Can’t seem to ever stop myself.” Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that he’s wearing, you tilt your head to the side. “Nice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. You’ve been direly needing some color in your life.”

Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell it’s more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, kid.”

“Anytime, old man.”

–

“The Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.”

You sit on the fountain’s edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mike’s words surround you.

He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while you’ve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.

And somehow Billy has become the face of it.

The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy.

“How big is this thing?” Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him.

Jonathan sighs. “It’s… It’s big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.”

“You’ve seen it?” Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears.

“We’ve had a rough night.” Nancy whispers, eyes downcast.

“It sorta destroyed Hopper’s cabin.” Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry.”

Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins.

Which, according to Max, is still very much alive.

But that doesn’t stop Will from trying to help. “But if we close the gate again–”

“We cut the brain off from the body.”

“And kill it.” Lucas finishes for Max. “Theoretically.”

It sounds so simple, but you’ve been here before.

You’ve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byers’ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army.

It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.

You’ve been here before. It hadn’t been enough.

“How many more times are we going to kill it?” Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes don’t lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. “We thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,” laughter crawls out of your throat. “Who’s to say that they won’t just open the gate again? They’ve already done it once–”

“Loverboy over here,” The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathan’s head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you he’s an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. “He told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. I’m not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.”

Steve subtly shifts your body so that he’s in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. “What’s that in your hands?”

Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. “Ah. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.”

“That’s just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.” You squint at the papers. They’re no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.

“Seriously,” Murray turns back to Jonathan again. “I thought she was supposed to be the nice one.”

You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. “Just start talking.”

He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’.” Murray points to the center of the first drawing. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.”

“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper hovers over him, attentive.

“Right here.” Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.”

You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re so wrong that it physically pains me.”

“I’m sorry?” Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from.

“It’s more like five hundred feet.” Erica says. When she sees Murray’s exasperated expression, she can’t help but laugh at the old man. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?”

“And who are you?”

“Erica Sinclair. And who are you?”

“Murray… Bauman.”

“Listen, Mr. Bunman.” You have to stifle a laugh into Steve’s shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.”

“I’m sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”

You slide off the fountain’s edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you don’t like his snippy attitude. “She’s ten, actually, and she’s right.”

“Yeah, you bald bastard!” Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. “Just the facts!”

While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Erica’s shoulders and place her behind you. There isn’t time for her to make a grown man cry. “We went through hell down there. It won’t be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.”

“They’re right.” Dustin speaks up. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me, may I?” Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. “See this room here? This is a storage facility. There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.”

“It’s how we accidentally got in.” You add, figuring any extra information could help.

“Wait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?” Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that he’s impressed. You know that once this is all over, he’ll grill you for details later.

“No, we thought it’d be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.” Steve points to his swollen eye. “Yes, Wheeler. It was an accident.”

“Guys!” Dustin shouts. When he has everyone’s attention again, he sighs. “Jesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.”

Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. “You can show us the way?”

Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. “Yes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.”

“No.” Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time.

You roll your eyes at all of them. “Okay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,” you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. “Aren’t a part of this conversation.”

“There isn’t a conversation to be had, kid.” Hopper scoffs at you. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re about to say. He won’t let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesn’t even want Joyce coming with him. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you can’t be that dumb.” Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. “Listen to me!” He ignores you, doesn’t turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him.

You don’t care how annoying you’re being. You’ll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesn’t want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you don’t want him getting hurt either. “Hopper, I’m serious. El…” You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. She’s so small. She’s still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. “She needs you. You–you can’t get hurt.”

“And I won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” you grab the man’s shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. He’s frustratingly strong. “Please, just–you’re her father. You–you can’t leave her–” You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isn’t he the one who taught El what compromise means?

In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. It’s a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you.

The walkies. Cerebro.

“What if I could still communicate with you from above?” You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesn’t look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you don’t waste any time. “We have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. It’s how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if… what if I give you directions using them? That way, you’ll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.”

Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. He’s quiet, mulls what you’ve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, he’s resolved. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing you’ve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. “It adds to my charm.”

Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. “Hey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.”

Dustin sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“The signal won’t reach.” Erica clarifies for him.

You motion at them to explain faster. “But…”

“But,” Dustin quickly explains your idea. “We’d need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians’ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radio–”

“Dustin,” you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. “Just tell him about Cerebro.”

“I was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.” Your brother shakes his head. “If you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start… and a car.”

“Hey, chief.” You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t you have a car?”

He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. It’s taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. “Come on, give me the car keys, Hopper.”

Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. “I hate you.”

Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you don’t care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.” Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what you’ve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. It’s the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at arm’s length. “Do me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.”

You sniff, wipe away tears. You’re not sure why you’re crying. “I will, I promise. Good luck, old man.”

“Good luck, kid.” He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes don’t leave yours. There’s something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your father’s eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what he’s looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvald’s. “You’re the best of them.”

More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. You’ve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper.

Praise doesn’t come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight that’s even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. You’ve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him.

–

Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. He’s nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick you’ve become familiar with.

The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steve’s body melts away.

He grabs your hand the second you’re within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. “Any updates, angel?”

You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. It’s been a long day. It’ll be an even longer night. “You know Weathertop hill?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Good.” You place Hopper’s keys into Steve’s hand. “You’re driving us, then.”

Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. “Define ‘us’. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Be nice, he’s still my best friend.” Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. “And it’s just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murray’s bunker. He’s just… He’s worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.”

Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that she’s new to all of this. That she hasn’t had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. “It’s… Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.”

“How many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?”

Steve snorts. “Depends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.”

“Astounding…”

You leave Steve to deal with Robin’s amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Will’s disappearance, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what you’ve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robin’s face the more you reveal to her, you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. They’re still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. It’s dizzying trying to keep track of it all.

Secretly, you’re grateful that you’re going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions.

“This one is for the second to last bottom lock–”

“Murray, can I cut in real quick?” You try to be polite about it, but truly you don’t care whether or not you have the man’s permission.

He glares at you. “Aren’t you already?”

“Good point!” You grab Nancy’s and Jonathan’s arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When you’ve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. “Get to that old man’s bunker safely, please?”

“Of course, bug.” Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. “Stay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.”

“I’ll try, bee.” Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier.

Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment you’re afraid she’ll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasn’t melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but she’s trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, “I’ll keep him safe.”

You suck in a breath. You hadn’t known how desperately you needed to hear Nancy’s reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. “I love you. I love you both.”

Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheeler’s porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home.

You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others.

Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. She’s still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.

“Sucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.” Mike says, a light in his eyes as El’s head rests in his lap.

You stick your tongue out at him. “Sorry, couldn’t find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.”

“Lame.”

“Goodbye, Wheeler.”

Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. “He’ll be okay, right?”

Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How he’s infected. Flayed. It hasn’t escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t die if the gate closed.

But no one has asked the same question for Billy.

Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Max’s embrace. “We’ll… We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Though the words aren’t meant to be a lie, you can’t help but feel that you’re breaking an oath when you say them.

–

Steve hadn’t noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.

It doesn’t take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.

“I was saying goodbye to Joyce,” you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steve’s quick footsteps.

“It’s a Cadillac, Y/N!” Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadn’t wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mall’s front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. “Oh, man, now this…This is what I’m talkin’ about!”

“‘Toddfather’?” Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.

You make a face, but Steve doesn’t let her ruin his moment. He’s ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuck’s sake, it’s a goddamn Cadillac. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.”

Steve hops into the car’s front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what he’s just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. “Did he just talk about himself in the third person?”

Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. “Did he just call himself daddy?”

“I’m choosing to ignore him right now.” You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. There’s so much you don’t want to unpack with what Steve has said.

“You can’t ignore me, Y/N.” Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. “We already established that I’m really annoying.”

“Just take us to Weathertop, please.” You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. She’s squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.

“Why did I get stuck in the middle?” She complains.

Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mall’s parking lot, he offhandedly responds, “Passenger seat is reserved for girls I’m dating.”

Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve haven’t had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But he’s just referred to you as the girl he’s dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?

Time has blurred together, but Steve’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives and you’re his girl.

There will be time to talk about all of it later. You’ll make sure of it this time.

Steve’s foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. There’s music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. You’re nervous, there’s still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; he’s trying to soothe you.

You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. “What the hell is a Cerebro?”

“It’s basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.” You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. “She lives in Utah.”

Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustin’s shoulder. “Suzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.”

Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.”

“She sounds made up to me.” Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. “She sound made up to you?”

Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”

“I–I’m not!” He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. “I’m not hesitating! I–I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”

“Not really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.” You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. “Suzie is real. I mean, I’m almost positive that she is.”

Dustin does a double take at your use of the word “almost”. He’s about to say something, demand to know why you’re not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. “Left, turn left!”

“There’s not a road here?” Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.

Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The car’s tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when you’d been in the back of Billy’s car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse.

The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. “What the fuck?”

“Hendersons, where are we going?” Steve screams to you and your brother. He’s desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillside’s grass.

“Up!” You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. It’s bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races.

The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. “We’re not going to make it!”

“Yes we are!” Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. “C’mon, baby. C’mon!”

“Sweet talking the car won’t help!” You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass.

Steve hits the wheel and curses. “C’mon! Please!” He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.

Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “We can walk the rest of the way, Steve.” He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. You’re five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. “The Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.”

Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While you’re annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time it’s night and the heat isn’t as suffocating.

When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. “Bald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”

Bald Eagle had been your idea.

“Scoops Troop?” You ask your brother.

He nods, proud. “Thought of it myself.”

“Not bad, buddy.”

Murray’s voice crackles over the walkie. “Yes, I copy.”

Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.

Dustin starts to give Murray the directions he’ll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While you’re far from the Russians below you, you still don’t necessarily feel like you’re out of harm’s reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring it’s best to give the two of you some time alone.

You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. You’d spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him.

“I haven’t been up here in years.” Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. “Forgot how peaceful it was.”

“I love it here,” you tell him. “Late in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.”

“Well, when they start to bloom,” Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasn’t held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. “We can run through them together.”

You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. “I think I’d like that–”

From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hill’s edge. You need to figure out what you’re seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.

It’s the mall. The lights are coming from the mall.

You freeze.

The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. It’s supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isn’t right.

Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. “What the…?”

“They left. They said they would be gone by now.” You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. It’s supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murray’s safely. He wouldn’t lie, he would never lie to you.

Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.

Someone has to help.

Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!”

He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. “I repeat, do you copy–” A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radio’s speaker. It’s loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brother’s concern rivals your own. “Griswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagle’s nest?”

Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but there’s only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You can’t breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas.

El.

The Mind Flayer has them.

Steve tries to grab your hand, but you’re blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustin’s hands and bring it to your own lips. “Jonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.”

Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve can’t take it anymore.

“C’mon,” he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you don’t know why he’s pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. “They need our help.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Y/N, look at me.” Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. “We’re going.”

Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that you’re leaving and try to stop you. “Where are you going?”

“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. “Stay here, contact the others!”

Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesn’t want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steve’s grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. “Stay in touch,” he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing.

“We will!” You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and stay here.”

The backdoor closes, Robin’s seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillac’s engine roars to life.

–

Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasn’t gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesn’t feel like it will be enough.

“I’m sure they’re okay.” Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also don’t shake as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, they have El. She’s a superhero.”

“Total superhero.” Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together.

You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. You’re terrified for your friends, you should’ve never split up. The party always does better when it’s together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. “How much farther?”

“A minute, maybe even less.” Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engine’s roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction.

In the distance you see Starcourt’s blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that you’re close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you.

“There!” You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you don’t care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathan’s car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.

You squint your eyes. At first, you can’t see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driver’s seat is Billy. “Steve!”

“I see him!” He floors it.

The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steve’s shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You can’t remember if you scream.

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if you’re hurt. There’s some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isn’t a scratch on you, which he’s thankful for.

“Ask me tomorrow?” Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process what’s just happened.

It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed…” Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. “Oh, shit.”

You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. It’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before.

A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “Get in!”

Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isn’t room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. It’s a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steve’s chest, but it’ll have to do.

As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. You’re thrown further into Steve’s chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride.

“Are you okay, bug?” Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.

“Fine and dandy,” you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. “I crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought y’all out here tonight?”

“Billy.” Everyone in the car says in unison.

You wince. “It’s always him, isn’t it?”

No one answers. Your quips don’t land. Robin hasn’t looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesn’t want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayer’s body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums.

It’s grim in the car. Really fucking grim.

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” A girl’s voice comes through over the radio. It’s not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.

Steve’s bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustin’s voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.”

“Suzie,” Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right.

The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. “‘Suzie-poo’? That’s the best nickname he could’ve come up with?”

“I like bee, better.” Jonathan agrees.

Steve scoffs. “Honey has a nicer ring to it.”

“Both of you shut up!” You don’t have time for their weird ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ competition. Dustin’s started speaking over the radio again and you’re trying to listen in case it’s important. He’s asking Suzie whether she knows what Planck’s constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand.

“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a…” Dustin’s voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he can’t seem to remember. “W-What is it?”

“Okay, let me just be clear on this.” The tone of Suzie’s voice makes you pity your brother. It’s an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever she’s about to say, it won’t be pretty. “I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can… save the world?”

You whistle, commending the girl’s sense of self worth. “She’s got a point.”

Dustin pleads with her, promising that he’ll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?

“You can make it up to me now.” Suzie’s voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what she’s about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before you’re forced to find out.

“What?” Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesn’t make you feel any better.

“I want to hear it.”

Horror fills you. It’s worse. So much worse than you ever could’ve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. “Oh, no… He told her.”

“Told her what?” Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. She’s insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise.

Jonathan’s eyes meet Steve’s in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. “Theater camp.”

“Jonathan Byers, I will hurt you!” You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that he’s your closest friend. He knows far too much about you.

Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. “Turn around, look at what you see.”

His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to.

The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you.

Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw.

“In her face, the mirror of your dreams.” Dustin’s melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together.

Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. They’ve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You can’t help but sing along, harmonizing with them.

Everyone in the car looks at you as if you’re insane, but you’re too tired and exhausted to care. You’ve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. It’s a good song.

That, or maybe you’re just delirious from dehydration.

After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and you’re almost saddened by that. You’ve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”

Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. “You just saved the world!”

“Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.”

The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. It’s disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. You’ll apologize to him later.

Dustin’s voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Erica’s doing. You’ll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustin’s impromptu performance with.

“So, theater camp, huh?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases.

“Tell anyone and I swear I’ll–” The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. “Where are the others?”

You’re practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. “Where’s Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?”

Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. “We got separated, but they’re–they’re fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mall–”

“So you left them?”

“We didn’t really have much of a choice, Y/N!” Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldn’t do that. She knows that you know this.

“It’s going back for them! It fucking turned around, can’t you see that? We need to follow it, now!”

“Y/N–”

“Turn. Around.”

“Steve, sit Y/N back down!” Jonathan’s yell cuts in between you and Nancy. You’re about to start spewing curses at him, but Steve’s arms are strong and force you back into his lap. You’re livid. “Hold on!”

Jonathan knows you’re right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall.

–

When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan.

“Fireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.” He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. You’re all carrying some as you run through the mall’s parking lot. “If we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.”

“Think it’ll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?” Nancy asks, hesitant.

“If we throw them from above, yeah!”

You kiss Lucas’ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. “I think you’re a genius, Sinclair.”

Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasn’t found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.

You’re taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. He’s so much bigger than she is. She’s hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. “He’s here.”

Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”

Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth.

Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. It’s loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billy’s eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin.

It’s horrible what’s happened to him. He didn’t deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game.

But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back.

“Hey, asshole. Over here!” Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. It’s dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. With every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens.

Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. It’s deafening within the mall. It’s exhilarating. It’s dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky.

Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs El’s wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.

Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But you’re quickly running out of ammunition.

“Dustin, we’re out of time!” Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face.

Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They won’t be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. It’s the only way any of you are making it out alive.

Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El.

She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you can’t be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and you’re numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that he’s stopped moving.

“That was the last one!” Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isn’t anything else the three of you can do.

You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone.

“I’m going down!” You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. They’re too close to the fire and explosions and monsters.

“Y/N, wait–” Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him.

“Steve, I need you to trust me.” There’s a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You can’t shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now you’ve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, you’ve gotten lucky. You don’t know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. “Please.”

Maybe it’s the way you say it. Maybe it’s the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you can’t.

You force yourself to pull away. “I’ll be back, take care of the others.”

And then you’re gone.

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly they’re both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her.

They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws.

Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. “No!” A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him.

Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp.

Everything happens slowly after that.

The first claw that penetrates Billy’s side.

The second one that cuts through his other side.

Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as he’s suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest.

Everything stops.

“Billy!” You will never forget the pain in Max’s scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares.

As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayer’s body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.

The gate has been closed.

Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billy’s bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body.

“Billy?” Max knees next to him. She’s crying, she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. “Billy, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.”

You kneel next to her, at her side through it all.

Blood pours from Billy’s mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. “Talking to you… sweetheart.”

But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?

Those had been your last words to him.

“Billy…” He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didn’t know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.

Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. “I’m sorry…” His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesn’t rise again.

Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. “Billy.”

She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well.

You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent.

Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer.

You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that.

You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billy’s off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you.

And then you had left him.

Billy Hargrove died alone.

You and Max will share the burden of this guilt.

–

Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. You’re on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billy’s body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they’re the only words you can say to the girl.

Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesn’t move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall.

Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that you’re in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and you’ll need to evacuate soon.

“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.” Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steve’s hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet.

Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steve’s eyes never leave your weak frame.

It’s all a blur after that.

Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think it’s Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. It’s raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building.

There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and you’re shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that you’re in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after she’s finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye.

“It’s going to take some time to heal,” the medic explains to you. She’s soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. “You kids went through a lot tonight.”

Time.

It always goes back to time.

Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shoulders’. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat.

A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyce’s as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.

Her eyes meet yours.

Hopper isn’t with her.

Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs.

In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mike’s lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.

“Hopper’s dead.” They’re the first words you’ve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body.

There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and El’s childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.

You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasn’t said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Will’s arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing she’s ever had to a father.

You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancy’s eyes are sunken in and Jonathan’s face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything.

You’re all bleeding or burned or bruised and you’re tired.

“Sometimes…” Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. They’re important, somehow, even if you don’t know why. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.”

Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. “Luck?”

“When Will went missing… It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.” You weren’t supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. “It was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnels…” Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. “And now I–”

Your words catch in your throat. Steve’s body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. “And now I… I’m not sure how I feel.”

“Why’s that, angel?” Steve listens, he tries to understand. “I mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.”

You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. “All the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.”

El’s father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up.

Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft.

But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isn’t fair.

“My entire life I’ve been lucky,” your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. “Now it–it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.” Your fingers find Steve’s, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesn’t know that he’s the reason you believe you’ve had more luck than anyone else in their life. “I… I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything we’ve been through together?”

Everything burns in Steve. He understands what you’re trying to say, he does, but he doesn’t agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steve’s open and earnest gaze. “I’m wrong?”

He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, but you’re wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.”

Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. He’d been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable.

Your eyes stare into Steve’s and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless.

You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being.

“And I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.”

Steve’s words cut through you. They’re the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. It’s almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?

You see Mike now consoling El. She’s in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the other’s arms. Lucas holds Max’s hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his mother’s hair, offering her love that only a son can.

Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.

Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isn’t a pressure behind them, he doesn’t need you to say anything to him. He’s simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and you’re so full of love for him.

“I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.”

Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you.

You finally, finally, have come home.

–

Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time.

After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. It’s a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster.

“But at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,” the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldn’t bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. “I miss her.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.” You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.

Hopper’s funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man would’ve hated, and he was crowned Hawkins’ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding El’s hand, so that the two of you wouldn’t be seen.

Billy’s funeral was a few days after Hopper’s. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billy’s father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldn’t get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling.

Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days she’s quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days.

During the first week you bake Joyce’s favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do.

Steve spends every single day with you, it doesn’t matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether you’re at work, at home, even at Jonathan’s or Nancy’s, he’s always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan can’t help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.

Together, you all try to heal.

Two weeks pass and you’re woken up by the ringing of your phone.

“Hello?” Annoyance seeps through your greeting. You’ve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once.

“Come outside, angel.”

His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. “Steve?”

“Wear something warm, okay?”

“What–?” He hangs up, the line disconnects, and you’re completely taken aback by the phone call. You didn’t make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home.

You’re not entirely sure why he’s called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.

Steve’s car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. There’s music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. “The Beatles?”

They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music.

When your dad left, he took the music with him.

Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and you’ve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings.

Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.

“What, I don’t get a hello?” Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear.

You throw your body over the center console and hug him. “Hi, honey.”

As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steve’s fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the car’s floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.

He’s driving you to Lover’s Lake.

“Why are we heading towards the lake?” You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather.

A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. It’s dark, the moon reflects off the lake’s water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. It’s a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the night’s breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm.

Lost in admiring the view, you don’t notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. “What are you planning, Harrington?”

Steve grabs your hand. “You’ll see.”

He leads you down to the lake’s edge where the water meets the sand. There’s a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it.

There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him.

The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, “Thank you for staying.”

His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what he’s thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that you’d wait for him. He hadn’t been ready. The timing of it all wouldn’t have been right, but you knew, even back then, that you’d wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant you’d receive even half of his love.

Take your time, I’ll be here.

“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability.

A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and you’ve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words you’ve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You don’t think you’ll ever tire of saying those three words to him. There’s so much love within you, so much you’ve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can.

Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know he’s wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue.

Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. It’s lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. It’s warm, it’s soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, he’s brought you here for other reasons tonight.

“Hold on, I got you something.” Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. There’s a small, lopsided candle on top of it.

“You came prepared tonight,” you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.

“My mom did, actually. She’s the one who made this.” You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. “Relax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didn’t I?”

Words escape you. Steve’s mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though you’ve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you.

Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. “C’mon, make a wish, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.

For time to stay like this, forever.

You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. It’s sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for.

When you’ve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. “Alright, now onto the real event of the night!”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, the kissing wasn’t enough?” Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. “I was teasing, honey.”

“You terrify me,” he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one you’ve been curious about all night.

“I aspire to be terrifying,” you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. It’s light, lighter than you expected. “Is this my gift you’ve been bragging about?” For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him.

“Open it and find out.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. He’s nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right.

You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isn’t wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. It’s a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms.

“Is this…?” The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other.

Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a charm bracelet.”

Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. There’s six charms, one for each member of the party. “Steve.”

“Have you figured it out–oomph!” He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“How did you get the kids to do this?” You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it.

Steve sighs in exasperation. “Money and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.”

You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. “Mike?”

“Yup. Said something about Kermit the frog?”

“He’s such a little shit,” you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldn’t stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. “Dustin?”

“He told me about your code blues.” Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, it’d been a special thing just between the two of you.

With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because he’ll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that it’s your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her.

“What about the ovals?” You ask Steve after he’s done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers.

He brushes hair out of your face and winks. “Turn them over.”

With slight confusion, you do, and discover that they’re engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. They’re your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love.

“Oh my god,” it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steve’s face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. “You like it?”

“I love it, Steve!”

“Does this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?” He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time he’s learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, “Am I now the best boyfriend in the world?”

His words make you blush, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to Steve being yours. You’ve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. “You’ve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And you’re definitely the best boyfriend in the world.”

Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. He’s elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and you’ve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold.

After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lake’s waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and let out a sleepy exhale.

Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. “You fallin’ asleep on me, Henderson?”

“I’m resting my eyes.”

“Very convincing,” he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he can’t believe that he’s here right now with you. After everything he’s been through, he can’t believe that somehow he’s come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. “I think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.”

It’s meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steve’s words remind you of something. You’ve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him.

“I was scared, last summer.”

Steve tilts his head at you. “Scared of what?”

“I was scared of falling in love with you,” the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steve’s eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. “Last July, you were… Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I just–I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been fair, not to anyone, but I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…” Steve hadn’t known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. “Don’t apologize, okay? I honestly would’ve run away too, if I were you. I’m just… You came back to me, in the end. That’s all I care about.”

He’s too good for you. “I still hurt you.”

“You’re human,” Steve brushes more hair out of your face. “We all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think we’re pretty even now.”

Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. It’s what he’s always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where you’d be without him. “We always even our debts, huh?”

“It’s tradition at this point.”

And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steve’s reverberates into your ears, and you’re happy.

–

A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night.

His knuckles rap against the glass and it’s a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didn’t know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in.

You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change.

Jonathan is crying.

“Bee, oh my God.” You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. He’s shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. “Is everything okay?”

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. “We’re moving.”

Time stands still. You’re seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.

Somehow you’re holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. He’s moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you.

Your legs give out, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon you’ll never be able to do this again.

“We need to–” Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. “We need to promise each other that–that we’ll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. It–it doesn’t matter how but–”

“I’ve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.” Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew you’d say this, and he loves you all the more for it. “It’s been agreed.”

You nod, relieved. It isn’t much, it still doesn’t change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least you’ll make every last second with him count. You’ll move into the Byers home if you have to, they’re your family. He’s your person. He’s embedded into your skin, he’s nestled between your bones.

Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other.

The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two.

Now, holding onto each other as the world you’ve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.

–

Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.

You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steve’s car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

“You put your mom down as a reference?” Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship.

“Yeah, why not?” Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. “She’s like, super well respected.”

You share a look with Robin. “Rich kids,” you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, you’ll neve quite get over how well connected he is. It’s bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.

“Whatever, call me a rich kid, but it’s my car you guys get free rides in.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the store’s door open for you and Robin. “I think this could count as kidnapping.”

Robin bumps her hips against yours. “Not technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?”

You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. You’ve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. There’s good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoop’s small shorts and sailor hats. “It’s not so bad in here.”

“Why thank you, pretty lady.” A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.

Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. “She doesn’t need you thanking her, buddy.”

You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the “general manager” on Keith’s name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he can’t piss off the guy hiring. “Steve, why don’t we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?”

“What–” He doesn’t have a chance to argue, you’re already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick “good luck!” to Robin as you leave.

She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. “Dingus, what are your three favorite movies?”

Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. “Uh, Animal House?” You can practically hear Robin’s disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, “What are my favorite movies?”

“I don’t know!” You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. “Just, name two other movies. Animal House can’t be too bad, right?”

“Star Wars,” Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses.

The manager stares blankly at him. “A New Hope?”

“A new what now?”

You drop your head into your hands and sigh. He’s hopeless. Already knowing it’s a lost cause, you mumble to him, “It’s a Star Wars movie, Steve.”

He snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah, it’s the one with the teddy bears, isn’t it?” Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing he’s fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. “No? Uh… Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom.”

“Oh, dear.” It’s a trainwreck, one you can’t look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve clears his throat, he knows he’s rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldn’t have dragged you here for the interview. “Those are my top three. Classics.”

Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, “You start Monday.” He points to Steve, “You start never.” And then he points to you, “You can start whenever.”

“Okay, I get why you’re telling me no,” Steve waves a hand in front of you, “but she didn’t even apply!”

You’re also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. She’s good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. “Will you just, um… Will you guys give us a minute?”

“Why?” Steve doesn’t move, and you want to throw a shoe at him.

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesn’t fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. “Thanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy I’m currently dragging.”

Robin snickers at Steve’s offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while you’re distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini.

You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.”

“I can sleep right now and find out–”

“I will flick you again.”

“A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

–

When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack.

You spent the night in Jonathan’s room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night.

As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathan’s room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyl's, sort through his mixtapes. When he isn’t looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He won’t notice they’re gone until he’s halfway to California.

When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathan’s life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you can’t take it anymore. You go into Will’s room, and it’s the same. You cry, he cries with you, and it’s bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.

El’s room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and you’re both silent as you move through the room together.

With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. It’s all there, pieces of you frozen in time.

As you tape a box labeled “games” in Jonathan’s messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. It’s one of Max’s better days, she’s teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and she’s in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door.

You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathan’s room. He’s leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one you’ve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything.

All of Jonathan’s boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. There’s a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and you’re never giving them back. They’re all you have left of him.

You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. “It’s so… empty.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “Is that everything?”

“I guess so,” Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. There’s scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought it’d be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room.

Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. “Seventeen years of my life… packed up in one day.”

His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathan’s direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that you’re telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.

You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you can’t say goodbye just yet.

“Thank you,” she whispers, following after Jonathan.

You find El as she’s leaving Joyce’s room. She’s holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. It’s a sad day for everyone, you’ll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesn’t stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug.

“I’ll miss you so much, sweetheart.” You mumble, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know who’s going to paint my nails now.”

El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. “I can ask Mike to.”

You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. “I’d love to hear how that goes.”

“I will write you,” El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce.

The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. She’s kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. They’re baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that they’re Hopper’s.

A lump forms in your throat. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. “Here, let me help.”

Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. It’s a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. “At all.”

You look up at her, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.”

“The guilt, honey.” She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. “I know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldn’t. You have to let go of it. I want…” Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. “I want you to promise me that you’ll live the life that you deserve, because you’ve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?”

“I…” You’re crying, you don’t know what to say. For years you’ve carried the guilt of Will’s disappearance, and for even longer you’ve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyce’s words undoes something in you. “I promise.”

Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as she’s always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. “You’re the best of them.”

You’re not sure how long you cry in Joyce’s arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. They’re leaving soon, he’ll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son.

Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after he’s said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. There’s a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do.

“Hey, little bee.”

He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. “Y/N!”

Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. He’s grown so much since you first met him. He’s no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you can’t believe you won’t get to finish watching him grow up. “I swear, you’re going to be taller than me next time I see you. Won’t be able to call you little bee anymore.”

“I’ll always be your little bee,” Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you.

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Will’s voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if he’s afraid of something.

You frown. “Hey, what is it?”

“I’m scared,” The words rush from his mouth. “What if… What if I don’t make any friends?” He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. “I–I’m different, Y/N.”

Will’s fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you can’t. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. “You’re the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that you’ll be fine. I mean, you’ll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.”

You stroke the boy’s cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’m rooting for you, always.”

Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end he’ll be okay. He’s a brilliant kid, he’s been through more than anyone else his age ever has. He’s resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day.

As you pull away from the hug, Will’s eyes catch on someone, you turn around. It’s Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you.

It’s time to say goodbye.

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathan’s shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.

“I made you something,” Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. “I, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.”

You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long it’d take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. There’s eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you don’t know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. “How long have you been making this?”

Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. “A while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, I’ll never have to know.” His demeanor is odd, there’s something he’s not telling you, but it’s your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it.

“You’re not allowed to find a new best friend.” You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. It’s a joke, though truthfully you don’t want Jonathan to find another best friend. He’s supposed to be yours, only yours, and you’re supposed to be his.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and you’re going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. “I mean, we were kids together, bug.”

You start to cry, and he does as well. You’ve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathan’s childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and it’s all so unfair.

Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight.

“Bee, we were more than just kids together.”

And it’s true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart.

–

The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, you’re all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye.

You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared he’s been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead.

“Remember what you promised me, okay?” She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what she’s telling you. “Live the life that you deserve.”

“I will,” you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van.

Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. “I’ll always love you the most, bee.”

“And I’ll always love you the most, bug.”

Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancy’s hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until it’s just you and your brother standing in front of the house.

Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again.

You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky

Joyce’s words ring in your head.

It’s time to live the life that you deserve. You’re on your own now, though you know that really you aren’t. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will.

The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist.

You’re no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. You’re loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new.

Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.

And you believe her.

[END OF SEASON THREE]

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