#the thought w/o the fic is posted separately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slinnnn · 28 days ago

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This is a 40 chapter long story I kept writing while I was in school bored. So, warning; this is not proof read, this is insanely long, most likely sloppy and confusing, tons of plot holes and some stuff may repeat.

This is also most likely not accurate to his character.

Also it's only mentioned about once, but Matsukawa want's to be a doctor in this fic! I didn't know what to do with this so I'm posting it here! Hope you enjoy.

WORD COUNT: 22K.

ALL CHAPTERS HERE

NO MORE RUNNING.

C H A P T E R O N E

Echos of the past

The train rattled beneath her, a rhythmic clattering that somehow matched the hum of her turbulent thoughts. (YOUR NAME) stared out the window, the passing countryside blurring into a wash of greens and browns. Returning to a place she swore she'd left behind—both physically and emotionally—was unsettling.

It had been six years since she last saw Matsukawa Issei. Six years since they’d all drifted apart. Matsukawa was once a figure on the periphery of her life, her best friend's older step-brother. They had never been friends, nor enemies, simply... there. That was until the incident that fractured everything.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. She hadn't even spoken to her best friend, Mei, in years. Their once inseparable bond had crumbled under the weight of personal tragedies, misunderstandings, and the suffocating weight of expectations from their families. Now, (YOUR NAME) was returning to the same town for her final year of high school, to live with her distant aunt. It was supposed to be a fresh start, but how could she start fresh when her past was there, waiting?

As the train pulled into the station, she spotted a tall, familiar figure standing near the exit. Matsukawa. His presence hit her harder than expected. Time had been kind to him, she thought begrudgingly. He was still lean, but his face had matured, sharper, more defined. His eyes, dark and unreadable, scanned the crowd, landing on her for a fleeting second before looking away.

It was an unspoken rule between them, after all. They had never been on speaking terms—not since that night. Not since the secrets, betrayals, and anger tore them all apart.

C H A P T E R T W O

Unwelcome reunion

(YOUR NAME) hadn't planned on running into Matsukawa so soon, but fate, it seemed, had other plans. It was Mei’s sister's wedding—her best friend’s sister's wedding. And Matsukawa was Mei’s brother. Mei had called a week ago, completely out of the blue, with a tone of forced cheerfulness that (YOUR NAME) could immediately sense.

“Come back,” Mei had said. “For old time’s sake. Please?”

And now, (YOUR NAME) found herself sitting in the back row of the small wedding chapel, surrounded by faces she recognized but hadn’t seen in years. She watched Mei and her fiancé exchange vows, all the while acutely aware of Matsukawa, sitting just a few rows ahead, his profile strong against the light of the stained-glass window.

Memories washed over her. Memories of nights spent at Mei's house, playing games, confiding in each other, laughing. And Matsukawa was always there, a silent presence, a wall that separated the girls from the rest of the world. He had been the distant older brother figure, aloof, almost arrogant, but undeniably compelling.

It wasn’t until that fateful night—after a party had gone terribly wrong—that everything changed. (YOUR NAME) remembered the anger, the accusations, and the bitter arguments. She and Mei hadn’t spoken since.

After the ceremony, Mei approached her. (YOUR NAME) stood awkwardly at the reception, drink in hand, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

“(YOUR NAME), it’s been too long,” Mei said, pulling her into a tentative hug. Her smile was strained, and there was a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. The same discomfort that had haunted them both after that night.

Before (YOUR NAME) could respond, she felt a presence looming behind her. She turned, and there was Matsukawa, towering over them, his dark eyes inscrutable. He gave her a brief nod, not saying a word, before turning to Mei.

“Mei, I’ll take care of the arrangements for the photos,” he said, his voice low and calm. Then, without sparing (YOUR NAME) another glance, he walked away.

The coldness in his demeanor sent a shiver down (YOUR NAME)’s spine. She had been prepared for an awkward reunion with Mei, but not for Matsukawa’s stark indifference.

C H A P T E R T H R E E

Forced proximity

The invitation came a week later, a formal letter from Mei’s mother, inviting (YOUR NAME) to stay at the family’s countryside home for a few months while she “got back on her feet.” She didn’t need the help—she had her own plans—but something about the invitation felt like a bridge. A chance to rebuild.

But that didn’t make the situation any less tense.

When she arrived at the estate, she was greeted by Mei’s mother, who welcomed her warmly. Mei was out of town on her vacation, but (YOUR NAME) was told to settle in as if she had never left.

What no one had told her was that Matsukawa was also living there.

The moment (YOUR NAME) stepped into the living room, she was greeted by his presence. He was sitting on the couch, reading something in one of his textbooks. Medical school, she remembered. That had always been his goal. He barely glanced at her before returning to his studies.

It was awkward, painfully so. The house was large, and yet every corner seemed to echo with the weight of their unspoken history.

Days passed, and they barely spoke more than a few words to each other. Matsukawa was reserved, as always, his face a constant mask of indifference. But there were moments—brief flashes—when she could feel the tension between them, a tension that had existed long before things had gone wrong. She had always sensed something about him, something she had pushed aside in favor of her friendship with Mei.

Now, trapped in the same house with him, that tension was palpable, and she had no idea how to deal with it.

C H A P T E R F O U R

Unraveling secrets

One evening, after a long day of unpacking and helping around the house, (YOUR NAME) found herself in the library, hoping to lose herself in a book. The room was dimly lit, the old wooden shelves stacked with volumes that smelled of dust and nostalgia. She hadn’t realized that Matsukawa had also entered until she heard the door close softly behind him.

He stood at the entrance, watching her in that unreadable way of his. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I didn’t think you’d come back here,” he said finally, his voice quiet but laced with something she couldn’t quite place.

(YOUR NAME) swallowed, trying to keep her cool. “I didn’t think I would either.”

He nodded, stepping further into the room, his presence filling the space between them. “So why did you?”

She hesitated. “Mei asked me to.”

He scoffed, turning away, running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s typical.”

(YOUR NAME) frowned, feeling a flicker of irritation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, though his tone suggested otherwise.

There it was again. That wall he always put up. The one she had never been able to break through, even back when they were all friends. Something had always simmered beneath the surface with Matsukawa, something dark and conflicted.

“Why do you care anyway?” she asked, standing up and crossing her arms. “It’s not like we were ever close.”

His eyes flicked to hers, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “No, we weren’t.”

The tension crackled between them, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Whatever lay between them had always been there, buried deep, and now, it was starting to rise to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

C H A P T E R F I V E

Sparks of conflict

Tension built within the house like a gathering storm. Days passed, and the forced proximity between (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa became unbearable. Everywhere she went, he was there. In the kitchen, making coffee, a quiet presence in the hallways, and most irritatingly, in the shared living spaces.

The problem was, (YOUR NAME) wasn’t sure how much of the tension was rooted in their past grievances or something deeper she didn’t want to acknowledge.

One night, after hours of silent avoidance, she found him in the kitchen, standing over the stove, making a late dinner. The scent of sizzling garlic and something savory filled the air, a domestic scene that contrasted so sharply with the coldness between them.

She tried to slip by without speaking, but he noticed her, his eyes flicking up briefly as she reached for a glass.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, not looking at her.

(YOUR NAME) stiffened, setting the glass down harder than necessary. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You are,” he said, his voice calm but sharp, like a blade wrapped in velvet. Matsukawa didn’t bother to look up from the stove, his casual demeanor making her feel oddly defensive.

(YOUR NAME) crossed her arms, standing her ground. “And what if I am? It’s not like we have anything to talk about.”

He finally looked at her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “I didn’t say we needed to talk. Just pointing out the obvious.”

His indifference grated at her. How could he be so calm, so composed, when everything about being in this house—being near him—was pulling her apart? (YOUR NAME) had always been able to hide her feelings, but Matsukawa had this irritating ability to make her lose her composure.

“What’s your problem, Matsukawa?” (YOUR NAME) snapped, unable to hold it in any longer. “You act like everything’s fine, like nothing happened. Like you don’t even care.”

He raised an eyebrow, turning off the stove and wiping his hands on a towel. “What exactly do you think happened, (YOUR NAME)?”

His question stunned her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Of course, they both knew what had happened—why their friendships had shattered. But they had never spoken about it. Not directly. And now he was standing here, acting as though it was all in her head.

“You—” She stopped herself, breathing hard. “You and Mei. You both just… walked away. No explanation. No apologies. I lost everything.”

Matsukawa’s expression darkened, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—anger, or maybe regret. “You think it was that simple?”

“Wasn’t it?”

“No,” he said, his voice firm. “It wasn’t.”

He took a step toward her, the space between them growing smaller, suffocating. “You don’t know everything, (YOUR NAME). You never did.”

His words hung in the air like a challenge, and before she could stop herself, (YOUR NAME) found herself stepping forward, meeting his intensity head-on. “Then tell me, Matsukawa. Tell me what I didn’t know.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. His eyes bore into hers, and she felt that familiar crackle of tension, something that had been there all along, hidden beneath years of resentment and silence.

But Matsukawa didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away, his expression closing off as quickly as it had opened. “You wouldn’t understand.”

(YOUR NAME) clenched her fists. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Shutting me out.” Her voice trembled with frustration. “You always did that—pushed everyone away, like you were above it all. Like you didn’t need anyone.”

Matsukawa turned back to face her, his expression hard. “Maybe that’s because I didn’t.”

(YOUR NAME) felt the sting of his words, but before she could respond, Matsukawa brushed past her, leaving the kitchen. The silence he left behind was heavier than the tension had been.

C H A P T E R S I X

Buried truths

The days stretched on in a tense limbo. (YOUR NAME) tried to keep her distance from Matsukawa, but in a house this size, avoiding him completely was impossible. Every time they crossed paths, there was that same prickling tension in the air, the weight of unsaid words and unresolved conflicts.

She tried distracting herself by exploring the house, which felt almost as haunted by the past as she was. The old rooms were filled with memories of her childhood with Mei, the laughter, the late-night talks, the unspoken camaraderie that had once seemed unbreakable.

But there were darker memories too. The night that had torn them apart, the fight that had started with Mei and ended with Matsukawa walking away, leaving (YOUR NAME) feeling abandoned and confused. She had never understood what had happened, why Matsukawa had looked at her with such coldness that night, as though she were a stranger.

That afternoon, (YOUR NAME) found herself standing at the door of Matsukawa’s room. It wasn’t intentional—she had been wandering aimlessly—but something had pulled her there. The door was slightly ajar, and from inside, she heard voices.

Matsukawa’s deep voice, low and serious, and another—an older man’s—familiar but distant. Her hand hovered over the door, debating whether to knock or retreat. But before she could decide, the voices stopped, and Matsukawa appeared in the doorway.

He froze for a moment, surprise flickering across his face before it was replaced by his usual guarded expression. “You need something?”

(YOUR NAME) swallowed, the weight of their previous argument still lingering between them. “I was just—”

Before she could finish, the man behind Matsukawa stepped into view. Her breath caught in her throat.

Mei’s father.

He gave her a measured look, his stern features softening just slightly when he recognized her. “(YOUR NAME). I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

“I am,” she managed, her voice a little shaky.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “I’ll leave you two to it. Matsukawa, we’ll continue this later.”

With that, he left, brushing past her without a second glance. Matsukawa stayed silent, watching her carefully. It wasn’t like him to share much with anyone, let alone her. But now, standing in his doorway, she felt a sudden urge to ask questions—questions that had haunted her for years.

“What were you talking about?” she asked, trying to sound casual, though she knew she had no right to pry.

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “That’s none of your business.”

(YOUR NAME) bristled at the coldness in his voice. “You know, for once you could actually talk to me.”

He let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “You think talking will fix anything?”

“I think it might help,” she shot back, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Or maybe you just like keeping everything to yourself, like you always did.”

Matsukawa’s eyes narrowed, his usual calm cracking just slightly. “You think you understand me, (YOUR NAME)? You don’t. You never did.”

She felt her temper flare, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “Then explain it to me! Explain why you walked away, why you shut everyone out!”

For a moment, she thought he might actually tell her. His gaze darkened, and there was something in his expression—pain, anger, regret—that flickered before he turned away.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “It’s in the past.”

(YOUR NAME) watched him retreat into his room, the door closing softly behind him. But as she stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, she realized that whatever was between them—whatever had torn them apart—was far from over.

C H A P T E R S E V E N

The crack in the armor

That night, (YOUR NAME) lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with the events of the day. Her confrontation with Matsukawa had left her feeling unsettled. For the first time in years, it felt like the walls he had built around himself were starting to crumble, just slightly, revealing cracks in the armor he had so carefully maintained.

And despite everything, she wanted to know what lay beneath that armor.

The following morning, she found herself in the garden, seeking a moment of peace. The house felt suffocating, with its memories and its ghosts. She wandered through the rows of blooming flowers, breathing in the crisp air, trying to clear her mind.

But even here, she couldn’t escape Matsukawa.

She found him standing at the far end of the garden, leaning against a tree, looking out over the hills in the distance. His posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in his shoulders, as though the weight of the world rested on him alone.

(YOUR NAME) hesitated, but something compelled her to approach him. When she got closer, he turned his head slightly, acknowledging her presence without a word.

For a long time, they stood there in silence, side by side, watching the wind rustle through the leaves. It was the first moment of calm they had shared since her return, and though it was fragile, (YOUR NAME) didn’t want to break it.

“You never did like talking much,” she said softly, glancing at him.

Matsukawa’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but not quite. “Talking never solved anything.”

(YOUR NAME) looked down, feeling the sting of his words. “It could if you tried.”

He finally turned to face her, his expression softer than she had ever seen it. “There are some things that can’t be fixed, (YOUR NAME). No matter how much we talk.”

She searched his face, trying to understand what he wasn’t saying. “And what about us? Can that be fixed?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy and unresolved. Matsukawa didn’t answer right away, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable, something real.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

And for the first time, (YOUR NAME) realized that maybe, just maybe, Matsukawa wasn’t as indifferent as he seemed.

C H A P T E R E I G H T

The unraveling thread

As the days wore on, the tension between (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa began to shift. Their conversations, though still sparse, took on a different tone—less guarded, more exploratory. Each moment shared felt like a thread unraveling, slowly weaving together a tapestry of understanding they had long left neglected.

One afternoon, while (YOUR NAME) was helping Mei’s father in the garden, Matsukawa joined them, rolling up his sleeves. It was a simple act, but it made her heart race. Working alongside him felt strangely intimate, and she couldn’t shake the sensation that he was drawing closer, not just physically but emotionally as well.

“You’re not as bad at this as I thought,” Matsukawa commented, glancing at (YOUR NAME) as they planted new flowers.

“Thanks,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm and genuine. “I never thought you were.”

His admission caught her off guard, and she looked up, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes. The vulnerability they had shared the other day in the garden felt closer now, and she wanted to seize this moment.

“Why did you shut everyone out?” she asked, the question tumbling out before she could second-guess herself. “I mean, after everything that happened.”

Matsukawa paused, his expression hardening for just a moment before he sighed, looking out over the flowers they were planting. “It was easier that way. I thought if I pushed everyone away, I wouldn’t hurt anyone again.”

“Did it work?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air.

“No,” he admitted, his voice low. “It didn’t.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart ached at his honesty. “You hurt me, you know. I felt abandoned.”

He turned to her, the tension returning briefly before he softened again. “I know. And I’m sorry. I just… didn’t know how to deal with everything back then. I was lost.”

The admission hung between them, a fragile bridge forming where once there had been a chasm of misunderstanding. There was something powerful in his words, a connection they had both needed to acknowledge.

“Maybe we can try to understand each other now?” (YOUR NAME) suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, uncertainty flickering across his face. “Maybe.”

C H A P T E R N I N E

Crossing boundaries

That evening, after a day spent digging in the dirt and sharing fragments of their pasts, (YOUR NAME) found herself filled with a new sense of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe they could salvage something from the ruins of their old friendship.

Later, as she sat in her room, she noticed a flicker of movement outside her window. Matsukawa was in the garden again, leaning against the tree, looking up at the stars. It was a clear night, the moon illuminating the world in soft silver light, and she felt an inexplicable pull to join him.

(YOUR NAME) slipped on a jacket and quietly made her way outside, the cool night air wrapping around her. When she approached, Matsukawa looked up, his eyes catching the moonlight, revealing depths she hadn’t seen before.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

He shrugged, the movement easy and unguarded. “Just needed some air.”

She stepped closer, settling beside him. The silence enveloped them, a comfortable blanket woven from shared history and unspoken feelings.

“What were you thinking about?” she ventured, hoping to break the stillness.

He hesitated before responding, his voice low. “About how different everything is now. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t think I’d be back, either,” (YOUR NAME) admitted, glancing at him. “But here we are.”

“Yeah, here we are.” There was a soft vulnerability in his tone that made her heart race.

As they stared up at the stars, she felt a shift in the atmosphere, an electricity crackling in the air. She turned to him, her heart pounding. “Matsukawa…”

He looked at her, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The world, the past, the hurt—they all fell into the background, leaving just the two of them.

But then he pulled away slightly, a shadow passing over his face. “We shouldn’t, (YOUR NAME).”

“Why not?” she asked, the frustration bubbling up again. “You can’t keep running away from this. From us.”

“It’s complicated,” he said, looking away, as though the weight of his own words was too much to bear.

“Complicated doesn’t mean impossible,” she shot back, her heart racing with the heat of the moment. “We can’t keep pretending nothing happened between us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in that familiar way she remembered. “I just don’t want to hurt you again.”

(YOUR NAME) felt the warmth of his concern wrap around her like a blanket. “I’d rather take the risk than live in this limbo forever.”

His gaze softened as he met her eyes, and for a brief moment, she thought he might lean in, might finally bridge that last gap between them. But then he took a step back, breaking the moment.

“Maybe we need more time,” he said quietly.

And just like that, the spell was broken. The stars faded into the background, and the weight of the world settled back onto their shoulders.

C H A P T E R T E N

The tipping point

The next few weeks unfolded like a dance—one step forward, two steps back. Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) slipped into a routine, sharing moments filled with laughter and conversations that seemed to spark a light between them. But every time it felt like they were getting closer, one of them would pull away, returning to their guarded shells.

Mei returned from her vacation, and (YOUR NAME) felt a pang of jealousy at the easy closeness between her and Matsukawa. Craving the easiness she once had with him.

One evening, while they were all sitting in the living room, Mei’s laughter rang out, warm and full of life. Matsukawa leaned in closer to her, whispering something that made her giggle, and (YOUR NAME) felt the familiar sting of insecurity bubble to the surface.

Later, while Mei and Matsukawa were in the kitchen preparing dinner, (YOUR NAME) excused herself, seeking solace in the garden. She needed air, space to think. Why was it so easy for them to connect, while she felt so far away?

She wandered to the same tree where she had shared those quiet moments with Matsukawa, leaning against it as she fought back her frustration. Just when she thought she could escape her thoughts, she heard footsteps behind her.

“Matsukawa,” she said, turning to find him standing there, his expression serious. “What do you want?”

“I came to see if you were okay,” he replied, concern etched on his features.

“Why do you care?” she snapped, the hurt spilling over. “You seem perfectly fine with everything being back to normal with Mei.”

He took a step closer, a flash of anger in his eyes. “It’s not like that, (YOUR NAME). You know that.”

“Do I?” she challenged, her voice rising. “Because it sure looks like you’re just fine pretending I don’t exist.”

Matsukawa’s jaw clenched. “That’s not fair. I’m trying to work through this. I’m trying to be here for you, but you keep pushing me away!”

“Pushing you away? I’m trying to reach out!” She took a deep breath, struggling to control her emotions. “It feels like we’re stuck in this endless cycle, and I don’t know how to break it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into his features. “Then what do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop being afraid!” she cried, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I want you to let me in.”

Silence fell between them, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Matsukawa’s expression softened, and she saw the conflict playing out in his eyes.

“I can’t,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t risk losing you again.”

“But we’re losing each other by staying silent!” she pleaded, her heart racing. “This isn’t living, Matsukawa. This is just… existing.”

He stepped closer, the intensity in his gaze wrapping around her like a spell. “What if we try to be friends again? Just friends?”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart sink, but she nodded slowly, unwilling to let him see her disappointment. “Okay. Friends.”

It was a fragile truce, one that left her heart aching with unfulfilled desires, but she couldn’t force him to cross that line if he wasn’t ready.

C H A P T E R E L E V E N

The push and pull

The following weeks were a delicate balance of laughter and longing. Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) tried their best to reforge their friendship, but the undercurrents of their unresolved feelings lingered just below the surface, creating a tension that made every interaction electric.

One Friday evening, as the sun dipped low in the sky, Mei organized a small get-together at their home, inviting friends from the area. (YOUR NAME) was both excited and apprehensive, knowing that Matsukawa would be there. The thought of seeing him laughing and interacting with others stirred something deep within her.

As the guests arrived, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. Friends mingled, drinks flowed, and laughter echoed through the halls. (YOUR NAME) felt a rush of nostalgia as she watched Mei effortlessly move between conversations, her laughter infectious.

But as she searched for Matsukawa among the crowd, an uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach. He was standing by the bar, laughing with a group of friends, and her heart sank a little at the sight. He looked so at ease, so himself, that it reminded her of everything she missed about their friendship. But it also reignited the feelings of jealousy that had started to creep back in.

Determined to push those thoughts aside, (YOUR NAME) joined a few friends on the patio. They played games, shared stories, and slowly, she began to relax, laughing along with the group. However, every few moments, her gaze flicked back to Matsukawa, who was still engaged in lively conversation. There was something almost magnetic about him, drawing her in even from afar.

When the party moved inside, she found herself at the snack table, attempting to gather her thoughts. Just as she reached for a bowl of chips, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Hey.”

(YOUR NAME) turned to find Matsukawa standing there, a drink in hand and that signature half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” she replied, trying to keep her tone casual. “Mei always knows how to throw a party.”

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, glancing around the room. “You look good tonight.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the compliment, warmth spreading through her. “Thanks. So do you.”

He laughed softly, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor. It was a rare sight, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. The atmosphere felt lighter between them, and for a moment, it seemed as though the tension had eased, allowing space for something new to blossom.

“Want to go outside for a bit?” Matsukawa suggested, gesturing toward the patio. “It’s quieter out there.”

“Sure,” she replied, trying to hide her eagerness.

They stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. The stars twinkled above, and the sounds of laughter from the party faded into the background.

“Why did you choose to come tonight?” Matsukawa asked, leaning against the railing, his expression curious.

(YOUR NAME) took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I wanted to see everyone. I didn’t want to feel alone. And I thought maybe it would help… us.”

“Help us?” He turned slightly to face her, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… help us find our way back to being friends. I just miss having you around.” The honesty slipped out before she could stop it.

He studied her for a moment, a mix of surprise and something else flickering in his eyes. “I miss it too.”

(YOUR NAME) felt a rush of hope, but it was quickly overshadowed by uncertainty. “Then why does it feel like there’s this wall between us?”

Matsukawa sighed, pushing off the railing to face her fully. “Because I’m scared, (YOUR NAME). Scared that if we try to go back to what we had, we’ll just end up hurting each other again. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“Maybe we can do it differently this time,” she suggested, stepping closer, her heart racing. “Maybe we can take it slow.”

His gaze dropped, and for a moment, silence enveloped them, thick with unspoken words. Finally, he looked back up, his expression softening. “I want that too. I really do. But it’s hard.”

“I know,” she replied, feeling a surge of empathy for the boy she used to know. “But we can’t let fear dictate our friendship, Matsukawa. We have to try.”

He nodded slowly, a reluctant acceptance in his eyes. “Okay. Let’s try.”

Just then, a loud cheer erupted from the house, pulling their attention back to the party. The moment felt suspended, like they were teetering on the edge of something monumental.

“Come on, let’s go back in,” Matsukawa said, breaking the spell. “I can’t let Mei think we’re hiding out here.”

“Right,” (YOUR NAME) agreed, forcing a smile to mask the longing in her heart.

As they rejoined the group, she felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps they could navigate this complicated path together. But with every shared laugh and lingering glance, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were on the precipice of something more—something beautiful yet terrifying.

C H A P T E R T W E L V E

The first cracks

The following weeks passed in a whirlwind of laughter, late-night talks, and tentative steps toward rebuilding their friendship. Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) found themselves spending more time together—playing video games, cooking together, and exploring the town.

Yet, with every shared moment, (YOUR NAME) felt the intensity between them grow. It was in the way their fingers brushed as they reached for the same bowl, the lingering gazes that held unspoken emotions, and the way her heart raced whenever he was near.

One evening, they sat on the living room floor, surrounded by empty snack bowls and video game controllers. They had just finished a particularly intense match, and Matsukawa leaned back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Okay, I’m officially the worst player in history,” he said with a mock sigh.

(YOUR NAME) laughed, nudging him playfully. “You just need to practice more. I can give you some tips.”

“Right. Because losing to you is going to be a real confidence booster,” he replied, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his smile.

As they continued to banter, (YOUR NAME) felt the atmosphere shift. The playful jabs became softer, more intimate, and the air thickened with something unspoken. She could see it in Matsukawa’s eyes, the way he looked at her as if she were the only one in the room.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, interrupting the moment. Mei popped her head in, grinning widely. “Hey, lovebirds! What are you doing down here?”

Both (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa jumped to their feet, their faces flushing in embarrassment. “We’re just… hanging out,” (YOUR NAME) stammered, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

Mei raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure. Anyway, I was thinking of heading to the café down the street. Want to join?”

“Sounds good,” Matsukawa replied, shooting (YOUR NAME) a glance that hinted at their earlier moment. “Let me just grab my jacket.”

As he left the room, Mei turned to (YOUR NAME), her expression teasing. “You two seem to be getting awfully cozy. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” (YOUR NAME) replied too quickly, biting her lip. “We’re just friends.”

Mei studied her for a moment, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Just friends? Is that what you’re calling it now?”

(YOUR NAME) groaned, feeling exposed under her friend’s gaze. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Fine, fine,” Mei said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “But just know that I’m here if you need to spill the tea.”

“Thanks, I guess,” (YOUR NAME) replied, trying to refocus her thoughts. She couldn’t let Mei’s teasing distract her from what was happening between her and Matsukawa.

When Matsukawa returned, he had his jacket on and a playful smirk that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. As they walked to the café, the banter resumed, but the atmosphere felt different, charged with anticipation.

C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N

A shift in the air

The café was bustling with life, the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods wrapping around them as they settled into a cozy corner. As they chatted over drinks, (YOUR NAME) felt the warmth of Matsukawa’s gaze, igniting something within her.

They shared stories about their childhood, laughter spilling between them as they reminisced about the silly moments that had once bonded them. The connection felt natural, effortless, and yet, there was an underlying tension that crackled in the air.

“So, do you have a crush on anyone?” Mei asked suddenly, interrupting their conversation and sending a teasing glance toward Matsukawa.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart raced, and she shot Mei a warning look, hoping to divert the attention. But Matsukawa simply raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “What about you, (YOUR NAME)?”

“Uh, I—” she stumbled, suddenly aware of the weight of their shared history. “I mean, no, not really.”

Matsukawa leaned forward, the teasing glimmer in his eyes intensifying. “Oh come on, you must have someone in mind. Don’t be shy.”

“Yeah, spill the tea!” Mei chimed in, leaning eagerly toward her.

(YOUR NAME) felt heat creeping up her cheeks. “It’s not a big deal, really. I’ve just been focused on… other things.”

“Like your blossoming friendship with Matsukawa?” Mei grinned, clearly enjoying the moment.

“Very funny,” (YOUR NAME) replied, trying to play it off. But the truth hung between them, heavy and unspoken.

As the conversation continued, (YOUR NAME) noticed the way Matsukawa's gaze lingered on her, a mixture of teasing and something deeper. It made her pulse quicken, filling her with a mix of exhilaration and anxiety.

“Okay, fine. If you must know, there’s someone I’ve been thinking about,” she finally said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“Really? Who?” Mei leaned in, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

(YOUR NAME) hesitated, glancing at Matsukawa, who was watching her with an intensity that made her heart race. “Um… well, it’s not really a big deal,” she deflected, the words tumbling out before she could catch them.

Matsukawa’s lips curled into a teasing smile. “You know, it’s not cool to keep us in suspense.”

“Yeah, just tell us!” Mei insisted, bouncing slightly in her seat.

“Fine! It’s just… someone from school,” (YOUR NAME) said, her cheeks flushing. “It’s nothing serious, just a crush.”

“Do I know him?” Matsukawa asked, tilting his head, his interest piqued.

“Maybe,” she replied, biting her lip, trying to hide the nervous excitement building inside her.

Mei raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’re terrible at this. Just tell us already.”

Before (YOUR NAME) could respond, the café door swung open, and a gust of wind swept through the room. A few familiar faces stepped in, and Matsukawa’s expression shifted as he recognized them.

“Looks like the gang’s here,” he said, nodding toward the newcomers. “Do you mind if we join them?”

(YOUR NAME) felt a pang of disappointment at the interruption but nodded. “Sure.”

As they moved to greet their friends, the energy in the café shifted. The group was lively, full of inside jokes and shared stories that made (YOUR NAME) feel like an outsider for a moment. She caught Matsukawa’s eye, and there was a silent understanding between them—a promise that they would pick up where they left off.

Throughout the evening, (YOUR NAME) found herself drawn to him again, his laughter infectious, his presence magnetic. They all played games and took goofy photos, yet the moments when Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) were alone together were becoming increasingly charged. Each casual touch, every shared glance felt like a reminder of the unacknowledged feelings simmering beneath the surface.

As they finally prepared to leave, Matsukawa fell into step beside her. “So… about what you said earlier,” he started, hesitating as they walked outside into the cool night air.

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart race. “What about it?”

“Do you really have a crush on someone? Or were you just saying that to get Mei off your back?” He glanced sideways at her, the corner of his mouth twitching in a teasing smile.

She paused, weighing her options. “I might have a crush. But it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Matsukawa pressed, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Because it’s you,” she blurted out before she could think better of it.

The words hung in the air, shocking both of them into silence. (YOUR NAME)’s heart raced, pounding in her ears as she braced herself for his reaction.

Matsukawa stopped walking, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she stammered, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over her, “I’ve liked you for a while now. But I didn’t know how to say it because of everything that happened between us. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship again.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Matsukawa stared at her, surprise etched on his features, his mouth slightly open as if he were searching for the right words.

“(YOUR NAME)…” he finally said, stepping closer, his voice low. “I didn’t think you felt that way.”

“I do,” she affirmed, her heart pounding. “But I also know it’s risky. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Matsukawa ran a hand through his hair, visibly grappling with his emotions. “I—”

Before he could finish, Mei and the others emerged from the café, laughing and joking as they approached. (YOUR NAME)’s heart sank. The moment felt shattered, their raw honesty slipping away like sand through fingers.

“Hey! What were you two talking about?” Mei asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Nothing!” (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa said in unison, their voices slightly too loud.

Mei raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but choosing to let it go—for now. They all headed back, but (YOUR NAME) felt the weight of Matsukawa’s gaze lingering on her, filled with unspoken words and emotions.

C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N

The unseen battle

The next few days passed in a blur of excitement and confusion. (YOUR NAME) was hyper-aware of Matsukawa, their previous conversation lingering like a sweet ache in the back of her mind. Every time their eyes met, a rush of electricity coursed through her, but there was also an underlying tension that made her heart race with anxiety.

Mei noticed the shift in (YOUR NAME), teasing her about how she had “that look” whenever Matsukawa was around. It was true; her heart fluttered at the mere thought of him. But the fear of rejection kept her on edge, unsure of how to navigate the delicate path they were walking.

One evening, while they were all hanging out at Mei’s house, a group of friends decided to play a game of Truth or Dare. The laughter echoed through the room, and (YOUR NAME) couldn’t help but join in, her heart racing each time Matsukawa’s gaze fell on her.

“Okay, Matsukawa,” Mei said, grinning widely. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he replied confidently, leaning back in his chair.

“I dare you to kiss the person you have a crush on!” Mei announced, the challenge hanging in the air like a spell.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart dropped into her stomach as everyone turned to look at Matsukawa, who froze for a moment, his expression a mix of surprise and contemplation.

“Uh, I can’t—” he started, glancing at (YOUR NAME), who was suddenly aware of the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Come on! It’s just a game,” Mei encouraged, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“Yeah, Matsukawa. Don’t be a chicken!” one of their friends added, laughter erupting around the room.

Matsukawa bit his lip, his gaze still locked on (YOUR NAME). She felt her breath quicken, caught between excitement and dread. What if he actually did it? What if he didn’t?

“Okay, fine,” he said finally, standing up and stepping closer to (YOUR NAME), who felt her heart race with every step he took.

The room fell silent, all eyes on them, anticipation crackling in the air. Matsukawa stopped in front of her, his expression serious. “You sure you want this?”

(YOUR NAME) swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “Yes,” she managed to whisper, though her voice felt weak.

He leaned in, and for a moment, it felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them. Their lips brushed together softly, a tentative exploration that sent shockwaves through her entire being.

The room erupted into cheers and laughter, but all (YOUR NAME) could focus on was the warmth of Matsukawa’s lips against hers and the way her heart soared. It was everything she had imagined and more—a whirlwind of emotions crashing around them.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, Matsukawa looked as surprised as she felt. “Wow,” he said, his voice low. “That was… unexpected.”

“Yeah,” (YOUR NAME) breathed, still reeling from the moment. But as laughter erupted around them, she felt a nagging sense of uncertainty creep in.

“What does this mean for us?” she asked quietly, suddenly aware of the weight of their actions.

Matsukawa’s expression shifted, the playful smile fading slightly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just a game, right?”

The words struck her like a blow, and her heart sank. “Right,” she echoed, forcing a smile as if the joy of the moment hadn’t just turned to ash in her mouth.

C H A P T E R F I F T E E N

Shifting sands

The days following the party felt heavy with unspoken words. Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) fell into an awkward rhythm, their conversations punctuated by the memory of that kiss—sweet and charged, yet laced with uncertainty. She found herself replaying it over and over in her mind, each recollection filling her with warmth but also confusion.

Whenever they hung out, she noticed Matsukawa acting slightly distant, his smiles a touch more guarded. It was as if the kiss had thrown him off balance, and the lightness of their connection now felt precarious.

One afternoon, (YOUR NAME) found herself sitting on the porch steps, lost in thought, when Mei joined her, plopping down beside her.

“Hey, you okay?” Mei asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” (YOUR NAME) replied, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”

Mei raised an eyebrow. “About Matsukawa?”

(YOUR NAME) sighed, the weight of her emotions spilling out. “I don’t know what’s happening between us anymore. That kiss was… amazing, but now it feels like he’s pulling away.”

Mei’s expression softened. “It’s normal to feel confused after something like that. You guys were friends first, and now there’s this… added layer.”

“I know,” (YOUR NAME) admitted, staring out at the yard where the sunlight danced through the leaves. “But I thought we were on the same page. After the kiss, I thought maybe we could explore something more.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Mei suggested, her voice gentle but firm.

“No, I haven’t,” (YOUR NAME) confessed, guilt washing over her. “I don’t want to pressure him. What if he regrets it?”

“Or what if he feels the same way?” Mei countered. “You won’t know unless you ask.”

(YOUR NAME) bit her lip, contemplating her friend’s words. The idea of confronting Matsukawa terrified her, but the uncertainty gnawed at her heart. “What if he doesn’t want to take things further? What if I ruin everything?”

“Sometimes you have to take risks, (YOUR NAME). Life is too short to play it safe,” Mei encouraged, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Besides, you two have already been through so much together. If he’s worth it, he’ll understand.”

Taking a deep breath, (YOUR NAME) weighed her options. She knew she couldn’t continue living in this limbo, haunted by what-ifs. “You’re right. I need to talk to him.”

Mei smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “That’s the spirit! Just be honest, and you’ll figure it out together.”

With renewed determination, (YOUR NAME) stood up, feeling a mixture of anxiety and hope. “Thanks, Mei. I’ll do it.”

Later that evening, (YOUR NAME) texted Matsukawa, her heart pounding as she typed out the words.

(YOUR NAME): Can we talk?

She hit send before she could second-guess herself.

Moments later, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Matsukawa: Sure. Wanna meet at the park?

(YOUR NAME)’s heart raced. The park was their usual spot, filled with memories of laughter and late-night talks. It felt like the perfect place to finally have the conversation they both needed.

When she arrived, the evening sun cast a warm glow over the park, and she spotted Matsukawa sitting on their favorite bench, his expression contemplative. As she approached, her stomach twisted with nerves.

“Hey,” she greeted, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Hey,” he replied, looking up and offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” (YOUR NAME) said, taking a seat beside him. “I wanted to talk about… well, what happened at the party.”

Matsukawa’s expression shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“Have you?” she asked, her heart pounding. “What do you think it means for us?”

He hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “I liked it, (YOUR NAME). I really did. But things are complicated.”

“Why? Because of our history?” she pressed, feeling a mix of frustration and hope.

“Partly,” he admitted, looking pained. “But mostly because I don’t want to hurt you again. I care about you too much for that.”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart swell. “I care about you too, Matsukawa. But if we don’t talk about this, we’ll just keep dancing around it.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I’m scared of losing what we have. But I also don’t want to pretend there’s nothing between us.”

“Then let’s explore it,” she said, her voice steady. “I want to see where this could go. We’ve both changed. We can make it work.”

Matsukawa looked at her, a mixture of relief and fear in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” she affirmed, feeling a rush of hope. “But we have to be open with each other. No more hiding.”

“Agreed,” he said, a genuine smile breaking through. “Then let’s figure this out together.”

As they talked late into the evening, the tension began to melt away, replaced by a sense of clarity. They shared their fears, their dreams, and the memories that shaped their connection. With each shared word, (YOUR NAME) felt the foundation of their relationship shifting—solidifying into something deeper and more profound.

And as the stars twinkled overhead, (YOUR NAME) realized that while the path ahead might be uncertain, they were finally ready to face it together.

C H A P T E R S I X T E E N

A new beginning

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotions for (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa. With the walls they had built between them finally crumbling, they found themselves navigating the uncharted waters of their relationship.

At school, their friends noticed the change, whispering and nudging each other whenever (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa were together. While it felt like a spotlight had been cast on them, there was a comfort in their newfound connection that made (YOUR NAME) glow with happiness.

One afternoon, while studying together at (YOUR NAME)’s house, they sat at the kitchen table with textbooks scattered around them. The late afternoon sun streamed in through the window, casting a warm light on their faces.

“Okay, explain this equation to me one more time,” (YOUR NAME) said, furrowing her brow as she glanced at Matsukawa.

Matsukawa leaned over, pointing to her textbook. “It’s all about finding the right variables. Think of it as… our relationship. You have to know which parts fit together.”

(YOUR NAME) laughed, her heart fluttering at his playful comparison. “So, I’m the variable?”

“Definitely. The most important one,” he teased, grinning.

Their laughter filled the kitchen, a comfortable intimacy surrounding them. But amidst the lightness, there was still an underlying tension—the unspoken acknowledgment of the feelings growing deeper between them.

As the study session wore on, Matsukawa’s hand brushed against hers, igniting a spark that made her pulse quicken. She looked up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the world outside faded away.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious.

“Of course,” she replied, her heart racing.

“What do you think about labels?” he asked, his expression earnest. “Like, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

(YOUR NAME) felt her cheeks heat up. “I think they can be important. They clarify things… but I’m also okay with just seeing where this goes.”

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I agree. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, a smile breaking across her face.

As the evening wore on, they shared stories and laughter, weaving their lives together in a way that felt natural and effortless. It was a new beginning—one that felt both exciting and terrifying.

C H A P T E R S E V E N T E E N

The first test

Just as things were beginning to settle into a comfortable rhythm, life threw a curveball at (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa. One Friday, during lunch, a group of their classmates gathered around the table, the conversation turning to the upcoming school dance.

“Are you going, Matsukawa?” one of their friends asked, nudging him playfully.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Matsukawa replied, a casual smile on his face.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart sank slightly at the thought of the dance. While she was excited about the idea of going with Matsukawa, she didn’t want to pressure him.

“Come on! You have to go!” another friend chimed in. “It’s our last year! You can’t miss it.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” Mei added, looking at (YOUR NAME) with a knowing smile.

Feeling her heart race, (YOUR NAME) decided to speak up. “What if we all go together? As a group?”

“That sounds perfect!” Mei exclaimed. “We can make it a night to remember!”

Matsukawa glanced at (YOUR NAME), his expression thoughtful. “Sure, that could work.”

As the group continued to chat excitedly about outfits and plans, (YOUR NAME) felt a mix of exhilaration and nerves. She could hardly focus on the conversation, her mind racing with the possibilities of the dance. But a nagging worry tugged at her heart—what if they faced judgment from their peers? What if their rekindled friendship was put to the test?

Later that evening, as (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa walked home together, she decided to voice her concerns. “Hey, about the dance… I know it’s going to be a bit of a spectacle with everyone watching us.”

Matsukawa glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. “You worried about what people will say?”

“Yeah, a little,” she admitted. “I don’t want anyone to make things awkward.”

“Why should we let others dictate what we feel?” he asked, his tone earnest. “This is about us, not them. If we want to go together, we should.”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart swell at his words. “You’re right. I just… don’t want it to change anything between us.”

Matsukawa smiled softly, reaching for her hand. “I promise, no matter what happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

Feeling reassured, (YOUR NAME) squeezed his hand, a smile spreading across her face. The dance was going to be an adventure, and together, they could face whatever came their way.

C H A P T E R E I G H T E E N

The dance

The day of the dance arrived, and excitement buzzed in the air. (YOUR NAME) spent the afternoon getting ready, her heart racing with anticipation. She chose a beautiful navy-blue dress that hugged her figure perfectly and made her feel confident. As she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile at the reflection staring back at her.

Mei had come over to help her with her hair and makeup, and the two girls laughed and chatted as they prepared for the evening.

“You’re going to look amazing,” Mei said, applying the finishing touches. “Matsukawa won’t be able to take his eyes off you!”

(YOUR NAME) felt her cheeks heat up. “I hope so! I just want it to be special.”

“You two have been through so much already. Just enjoy the moment,” Mei encouraged, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

When Matsukawa arrived to pick her up, (YOUR NAME)’s heart fluttered at the sight of him. He looked dashing in a tailored suit, his hair styled just right. As he took in her appearance, his expression shifted from surprise to awe.

“You look incredible,” he breathed, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

“Thanks! You clean up pretty well yourself,” she replied, feeling a wave of warmth wash over her.

As they headed to the dance, excitement mixed with nervousness coursed through (YOUR NAME). They arrived at the school, where the music pulsed and laughter echoed. The decorations transformed the gym into a vibrant wonderland of lights and colors.

Once inside, they were quickly surrounded by their friends, the energy of the night infectious. Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) found themselves dancing, lost in the music and the atmosphere, their earlier worries melting away.

As the night wore on, they shared stolen glances and soft touches, each moment filled with unspoken understanding. But just as (YOUR NAME) began to relax, she noticed a group of students whispering and pointing in their direction. Her heart sank, anxiety creeping back in.

“Are they talking about us?” she whispered to Matsukawa, her voice laced with concern.

He followed her gaze, spotting the group. “Ignore them. We’re here to have fun, right?”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, trying to shake off the unease. “You’re right.”

As the last song of the night played, Matsukawa pulled her closer, their bodies swaying to the music. “I’m glad we came,” he murmured, looking down at her.

“Me too,” she said, her heart racing. “Thank you for being you.”

“Always,” he replied, leaning down to kiss her softly. In that moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of them and the magic of the night.

C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N

Tensions rising

The following week at school, the buzz surrounding the dance lingered in the air. While (YOUR NAME) felt buoyed by the magic of the night, she could also sense an undercurrent of tension in her interactions with Matsukawa.

After school one day, they found themselves in the library, poring over textbooks for an upcoming exam. The air was thick with unspoken words as (YOUR NAME) stole glances at Matsukawa, who seemed lost in thought.

“Hey, are you okay?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

He looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about school stuff.”

“Really? Because you’ve been acting a little distant lately,” she said, her heart racing at the thought of something being wrong.

Matsukawa sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I feel like there’s a lot of pressure on us right now. Everyone is watching.”

“Is that bothering you?” (YOUR NAME) asked, trying to gauge his feelings.

“It’s not that I don’t like being with you. I do. It’s just… I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially you,” he confessed, his gaze dropping.

(YOUR NAME) felt a pang of empathy. “Matsukawa, we’re in this together. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. What matters is how we feel.”

He nodded slowly, but the tension in his posture remained. “I know. I just don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Then let’s take it one day at a time. We don’t have to put labels on anything just yet,” she suggested, hoping to ease his worries.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, though she could tell he was still grappling with his thoughts.

As they returned to their studies, (YOUR NAME) couldn’t shake the feeling that their relationship was teetering on a delicate balance. Every laugh shared seemed tinged with uncertainty, and every conversation felt laden with the unspoken fears that hovered between them.

After school, the tension seemed to follow them into their extracurricular activities. They had joined a club that organized events for students, and while they usually enjoyed planning together, the underlying stress began to seep into their interactions.

One afternoon, while they were brainstorming ideas for the upcoming charity event, (YOUR NAME) noticed Matsukawa was unusually quiet. He stared at the planning sheet with furrowed brows, scribbling notes but not contributing to the conversation.

“Matsukawa?” she prompted gently, “What’s going on?”

He sighed, looking up with a conflicted expression. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed. It feels like everything is piling up—school, our friends, and us.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart sank at his words. “You don’t have to shoulder it all alone. We can tackle it together.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s just… I worry that I’m not good enough for you.”

“What?” (YOUR NAME) exclaimed, taken aback. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you deserve someone who has it all figured out. I’m still trying to find my way,” he admitted, his vulnerability striking a chord in her.

“Matsukawa, we’re both still figuring things out. That’s what this time is for. I like you for who you are, not some ideal version of you,” she reassured him.

He met her gaze, the conflict still swirling in his eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

(YOUR NAME) felt a rush of warmth and determination. “You won’t disappoint me. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

The sincerity in her voice seemed to soften the tension in his shoulders. “Thank you,” he said, a small smile breaking through. “I guess I needed to hear that.”

As they continued discussing the event, (YOUR NAME) felt a renewed sense of hope. They still had challenges ahead, but she was determined to face them together.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y

The charity event

The day of the charity event arrived, and excitement buzzed in the air. Students scurried about, setting up decorations and arranging tables. (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa were assigned to oversee the games section, and their laughter echoed as they worked side by side.

As the sun set and the gym transformed into a festive space adorned with twinkling lights, (YOUR NAME)’s heart raced with anticipation. This was the moment they had worked toward together, and she felt proud of how far they had come.

“You ready for this?” Matsukawa asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Absolutely! This is going to be amazing!” she replied, feeling her spirits lift.

As the event kicked off, (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa jumped into action, engaging with their classmates and overseeing the various games. They both thrived in the lively atmosphere, exchanging playful banter and smiles.

But as the night wore on, (YOUR NAME) noticed a group of students lingering nearby, whispering and casting furtive glances their way. She felt a flutter of anxiety, remembering the tension that had previously hung over them.

“Matsukawa, do you see them?” she murmured, nodding toward the group.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, a frown crossing his face. “Ignore them. We’re here to have fun.”

She took a deep breath, trying to push her worries aside. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to ruin the night. “You’re right. Let’s focus on the event.”

As the evening progressed, (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa found themselves enjoying the moment. They played games with younger students, laughed at the ridiculous prizes, and felt the warmth of their connection grow stronger.

But then, the unthinkable happened. During a particularly loud game, someone bumped into (YOUR NAME), causing her to spill soda all over Matsukawa’s shirt. The room went silent as everyone turned to watch.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

Matsukawa laughed, though she could see the hint of discomfort in his eyes. “It’s okay! I needed a wardrobe change anyway,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

But before she could respond, one of the onlookers chimed in, “Looks like someone can’t control her drinks around her crush!”

Laughter erupted from the crowd, and (YOUR NAME)’s face burned with humiliation. The teasing cut deeper than she expected, twisting her stomach in knots.

Matsukawa shot her an encouraging glance, but she could see the discomfort clouding his features. “Let’s go get some napkins,” he suggested, leading her away from the crowd.

Once they were out of earshot, (YOUR NAME) turned to him, her heart racing. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make a scene.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “It’s not your fault. It’s just… you heard what they said. It’s hard not to feel the pressure when everyone is watching.”

(YOUR NAME) felt a surge of frustration. “You shouldn’t let them get to you. We’re here to have fun and raise money for a good cause!”

“I know,” he replied, his voice low. “But it’s difficult when it feels like everyone has an opinion about us. I just don’t want to let you down.”

“You won’t let me down,” she insisted, stepping closer. “I’m not going to let what they say ruin tonight.”

He met her gaze, and for a moment, the world around them faded away. “You’re right. I just… I guess I need to learn to tune them out.”

“Exactly,” she said, her heart swelling with determination. “Let’s show them how much fun we can have.”

With a renewed sense of purpose, they returned to the event, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. As they engaged with their friends and laughed off the awkward moment, (YOUR NAME) felt a shift within herself. She realized that no matter the challenges they faced, their connection was strong enough to withstand it all.

As the night drew to a close, Matsukawa took her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m glad we’re in this together,” he said, his voice warm.

“Me too,” she replied, her heart soaring. “This is just the beginning.”

Under the twinkling lights of the gym, they shared a soft, lingering kiss—an affirmation of their bond and a promise to face whatever came next, together.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y O N E

Rumors and reckoning

The days following the charity event were a storm brewing beneath the surface. The once-quiet halls of school were now buzzing with gossip about (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa. Whispers chased them like shadows, each rumor sharper than the last, cutting deeper into their relationship.

One afternoon in the cafeteria, as they sat together, a group of girls at a nearby table erupted in laughter.

“Did you see Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME)? Such a cliché couple!” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “She’s just using him for attention.”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart drop. She tried to push the words aside, but they festered, igniting a fire of anger within her.

“Are you okay?” Matsukawa asked, sensing her tension.

“No! I’m not okay!” she snapped, surprising herself with her outburst. “Can’t you see what they’re saying? It’s humiliating!”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “(YOUR NAME), just ignore them. We know the truth.”

“Just ignore them?” she shot back, incredulous. “They’re tearing us apart, and you want to act like it’s nothing?”

“Acting like it’s nothing is better than letting them win!” Matsukawa’s voice rose, drawing the attention of nearby students.

“Winning? This isn’t a game!” (YOUR NAME) retorted, her voice shaking with anger. “This is our relationship!”

“Then stop letting them control how you feel!” he argued, his frustration boiling over.

“You think this is easy for me?” she snapped, standing up, her heart racing. “You don’t get it, Matsukawa! It’s not just rumors; it’s everyone judging us, and it hurts!”

Before he could respond, a group of boys nearby laughed, mocking their argument. “Looks like Matsukawa can’t handle a real girlfriend!” one shouted, and laughter erupted.

(YOUR NAME)’s face flushed with anger. “Shut up!” she yelled, her heart pounding in her chest. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Why are you even defending him?” another boy chimed in. “He’s just going to dump you when someone better comes along!”

“That’s enough!” Matsukawa shouted, his voice filled with rage. He stood, glaring at the boys.

“Oh, are you going to cry about it?” one of the boys jeered, pushing Matsukawa.

In a flash, Matsukawa pushed back, anger spilling over. “Don’t touch me!”

“Matsukawa, don’t.” (YOUR NAME) shifted, feeling the tension escalate.

But it was too late. Matsukawa and the boy were face-to-face, fists clenched, eyes blazing. The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes on them as the fight threatened to break loose.

“Just walk away,” (YOUR NAME) hissed at Matsukawa.

“No! I’m done with this!” he shouted, his anger palpable. “I’m not going to let them talk about you like that!”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart sank, realizing that the fight was about to turn physical. “Matsukawa.” She hissed once more, stepping between them. “Don’t.” she warned.

But he pushed past her, fists raised. “You think I'm just gonna sit there and listen to their dumb ass shit?”

“Stop it.” she warned once more, friction lacing her voice. “This isn’t going to solve anything.”

The tension crackled in the air as Matsukawa glared at the boy, who was smirking, egging him on. “Go ahead, throw the first punch. Show everyone how tough you really are.”

“Matsukawa, fucking don’t.” (YOUR NAME) gave a silent plea.

Finally, he hesitated, lowering his fists as he looked at her, confusion and anger battling in his eyes. “You don’t understand!” he yelled, frustration spilling over. “I’m fighting for us!”

“Fighting for us? This is going to ruin us!” She let out a tension filled sneer.

Realizing the truth in her words, Matsukawa stepped back, his breathing heavy. “Fine. Walk away. Just like everyone else,” he spat, turning on his heel and storming off, leaving (YOUR NAME) feeling shattered at the sudden dismissal of her.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y T W O

The distance between us

With Matsukawa’s angry departure, (YOUR NAME) felt a cold emptiness settle around her. Days turned into a blur of silence, filled only with the echoes of their last fight.

At school, their interactions became strained, each passing moment a reminder of the unresolved tension. They exchanged glances in the halls, but any hint of warmth had been replaced with awkwardness.

One afternoon, as she sat with Mei in the library, (YOUR NAME)’s heart ached. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, burying her face in her hands. “It feels like he’s gone.”

“Have you talked to him?” Mei asked gently.

“No,” she whispered, the words sticking in her throat. “What if he hates me?”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just angry,” Mei reassured her. “You both need to clear the air.”

“I don’t even know if I want to,” (YOUR NAME) admitted, feeling the weight of her own confusion. “What if it’s too late?”

That evening, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with her thoughts. She missed him—their laughter, the way he made her feel safe. But the anger from their last encounter hung heavy in the air.

As days turned into a week, (YOUR NAME) found herself avoiding places where she might run into him. But the ache in her heart only grew stronger.

Then, one fateful afternoon, their paths crossed in the hallway. Matsukawa stood by his locker, surrounded by friends, but his eyes locked onto hers, filled with an intensity that made her heart race.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quiet but edged with tension.

“Hey,” she replied, her pulse quickening.

A moment of silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. But before she could say anything, one of Matsukawa’s friends interrupted. “You two really need to sort this out. It’s getting pathetic.”

Matsukawa’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. (YOUR NAME) felt a wave of frustration wash over her. “This isn’t your business!” she snapped, her voice sharp.

Matsukawa’s friends exchanged glances, surprised. “We’re just trying to help,” one said defensively.

“Help? By making things worse?” she shot back, her anger flaring. “You have no idea what we’re going through!”

Matsukawa stepped closer, an unreadable expression on his face. “(YOUR NAME), maybe we should just leave it.”

“Leave it?” she echoed, disbelief washing over her. “Are you serious? You want to pretend this isn’t happening?”

“I don’t want to fight!” he insisted, frustration bubbling over. “Every time we talk, it ends in an argument!”

“Maybe that’s because you refuse to see how serious this is!” she yelled, tears pricking her eyes. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m fighting this alone!”

“Matsukawa, do you even care?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Of course I care!” he shot back, his voice rising. “But I’m not going to beg you to stay!”

Their friends watched, tension thick in the air, as (YOUR NAME) felt the ground beneath her shift. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay!” she yelled, hurt spilling over. “Maybe we’re better off apart!”

Matsukawa’s expression faltered, and she could see the pain etched on his face. “Is that really what you want?” he asked, voice low and raw.

“Maybe it is!” she retorted, her heart racing as the finality of her words hung between them.

Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and walked away, each step feeling like a dagger to her heart.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y T H R E E

The breaking point

Days turned into weeks, and the silence between (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa became a deafening roar. Each time they crossed paths, the weight of unspoken words loomed over them, suffocating.

(YOUR NAME) poured herself into her studies, drowning out her emotions with schoolwork, but nothing could fill the void Matsukawa left behind. She missed him, but pride and pain kept her from reaching out.

One afternoon, during an after-school study session, she overheard a group of girls gossiping again.

“I heard Matsukawa is seeing someone else,” one whispered. “He’s probably just tired of (YOUR NAME)’s drama.”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart sink, a mix of anger and despair flooding her. How could they say that? She had been the one to push him away, but the thought of him moving on felt unbearable.

That night, after tossing and turning, she sent a hesitant text to Matsukawa.

(YOUR NAME): Can we talk?

Minutes felt like hours as she waited for a response. Finally, her phone buzzed.

Matsukawa: Fine. Where?

(YOUR NAME): Outside the school?

When they met, the air was thick with tension, both of them standing at a distance as if afraid to bridge the gap.

“Why did you want to meet?” Matsukawa asked, arms crossed, his expression guarded.

“I heard something,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted to know if it’s true.”

Matsukawa’s eyes narrowed, tension brimming between them. “What did you hear?”

(YOUR NAME) took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “That you’re seeing someone else,” she forced out, the words bitter on her tongue. “Is it true?”

For a moment, Matsukawa’s expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering with something she couldn’t place—hurt, frustration, anger?

“You think I’m seeing someone else? After everything we’ve been through?” His voice was low, but the sting of betrayal was unmistakable.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” (YOUR NAME) admitted, her voice cracking. “We’re falling apart, Matsukawa. I don’t even know if you care.”

“Of course I care!” he snapped, stepping closer, his eyes blazing with raw emotion. “But you pushed me away! You’re the one who said we’d be better off apart!”

“I didn’t mean it!” (YOUR NAME) yelled, her frustration boiling over. “I was angry and hurt! And you just— you just let me walk away!”

“What was I supposed to do?” Matsukawa’s voice rose, his own anger and hurt pouring out. “You said it like you meant it. Like we were done. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you walk away?”

“I thought you didn’t care!” (YOUR NAME) shouted, tears blurring her vision. “I thought you’d moved on!”

“I never moved on!” Matsukawa’s voice cracked, his fists clenched at his sides. “I couldn’t. I’ve been miserable without you!”

The words hit (YOUR NAME) like a punch to the gut. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond, her emotions swirling in a confusing mix of relief and pain.

“Matsukawa,” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice trembling, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know if you wanted to hear it,” he said, his voice raw. “You said we were better off apart, (YOUR NAME). You broke my heart.”

The intensity of his words broke something inside her, and suddenly, the walls she’d built around herself crumbled. She reached for him, her fingers brushing his arm, needing to feel the connection she’d missed so desperately.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, Matsukawa hesitated, his jaw clenched, his eyes clouded with the weight of everything left unsaid between them. Then, as if something inside him snapped, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Not again. Not ever.”

(YOUR NAME) buried her face in his chest, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

The storm that had raged between them for weeks seemed to settle, but the damage lingered, leaving behind scars that neither of them knew how to heal.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y F O U R

Healing wounds

After their emotional confrontation, (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa decided to give their relationship another chance. But as they stood on the precipice of rekindling their connection, both were painfully aware of the scars left behind by their past fights and misunderstandings.

The following week, they met after school at a small park, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows around them. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, and (YOUR NAME) felt a mixture of hope and anxiety.

“Are we really doing this?” Matsukawa asked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he looked at her. “Starting over, I mean?”

“I want to,” (YOUR NAME) replied, her voice steady but her heart racing. “But we need to talk about everything that happened.”

“Yeah, we do,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I can’t keep pretending like I’m fine when I’m not.”

As they settled on a bench, the silence stretched between them. Finally, (YOUR NAME) spoke. “I was scared. Scared of what everyone said and scared of losing you. So I pushed you away.”

“I was scared too,” Matsukawa admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought you were better off without me. I didn’t want to be the reason you got hurt.”

“But hurting each other didn’t solve anything,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I just… I just want us to be okay again.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. “I want that too. But we need to communicate better. No more walking away or ignoring what we feel.”

“Agreed,” (YOUR NAME) said, relief washing over her. “We can’t let rumors and other people get in the way.”

Just as she felt a spark of hope, Matsukawa’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and the smile on his face faded. “I have to take this,” he said, rising from the bench.

As he stepped away, (YOUR NAME) felt a flicker of unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He was gone longer than expected, and when he returned, his expression was clouded with tension.

“Everything okay?” she asked, trying to mask her worry.

“Yeah, just… family stuff,” he said, but there was a tightness in his voice. “Let’s go back to my place. I think we need to talk more.”

As they walked, (YOUR NAME) sensed a shift in the air. The warmth they had just shared was fading, replaced by an undercurrent of anxiety. When they reached his house, Matsukawa’s mood darkened further.

“I’m sorry if I seem off,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just—”

“What is it?” (YOUR NAME) pressed gently.

“My parents are fighting again,” he admitted, his voice low. “It’s really bad this time.”

Her heart ached for him. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he replied sharply, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I don’t know. It just makes everything feel worse.”

“Let me in, Matsukawa,” she urged, stepping closer. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He looked at her, vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“I’m already in it,” she said softly, her heart aching for him. “We’re in this together, remember?”

He nodded slowly, and for a moment, they shared a quiet understanding. But as the shadows of doubt loomed, (YOUR NAME) couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to shatter their fragile peace.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y F I V E

Shattered trust

The days following their heartfelt talk passed in a bittersweet haze. They spent more time together, but the lingering tension from Matsukawa’s family issues cast a shadow over their budding relationship.

One afternoon, as they walked home from school, (YOUR NAME) sensed that something had changed. Matsukawa seemed distant, lost in his thoughts, and she felt a growing sense of unease.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, glancing at him. “You seem… off.”

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” he replied, his tone evasive.

“You can talk to me, you know,” she pressed, worried about his silence.

“I know,” he said, but there was a reluctance in his voice that made her stomach twist.

When they reached (YOUR NAME)’s house, she turned to him, concern etched on her face. “Please, Matsukawa. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “It’s just… my parents are really at each other’s throats. They keep dragging me into it, and I don’t know how to help them.”

“Have you thought about talking to them about it?” she suggested. “Maybe they just need to know how you feel.”

“I don’t want to add to their problems,” he said, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “They don’t care what I think.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart sank. “That’s not true. They love you.”

“Do they?” he shot back, his voice laced with bitterness. “Because it doesn’t feel that way.”

“Maybe you should just be honest with them,” she suggested gently. “It might help.”

“I can’t just do that,” he said, frustration evident in his tone. “You don’t understand what it’s like.”

“Then help me understand!” she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

“Why do you care so much?” he snapped, stepping back, his expression shifting to anger. “You’re not the one dealing with this!”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart drop. “You’re right. I’m not. But I want to help you, Matsukawa! I’m trying!”

“Trying isn’t enough!” he yelled, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t need your pity!”

“I’m not pitying you! I care about you!” she cried, tears stinging her eyes. “But it feels like you’re pushing me away again!”

The silence between them was charged with tension, the air thick with unspoken words. Matsukawa’s expression softened, guilt flickering in his eyes, but the damage was done.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know how to handle this.”

“Neither do I,” (YOUR NAME) admitted, her heart aching. “But shutting me out isn’t the answer.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. “I just don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Then let me help you!” she urged, stepping closer, her heart racing with emotion. “I want to be here for you, Matsukawa.”

But before he could respond, his phone buzzed again, and the look on his face changed. “I have to take this,” he said, turning away.

As he walked a few steps away, (YOUR NAME) felt a surge of frustration mixed with heartbreak. When he returned, the air between them felt heavy again.

“Sorry, it was my dad,” he said, his voice strained. “I need to go.”

“Go?” she echoed, disbelief creeping into her voice. “You just got here!”

“I know, but I can’t just ignore them,” he said, his eyes darting away. “I have to figure this out.”

“Wait, Matsukawa!” she called, but he was already walking away, leaving her standing there, feeling more alone than ever.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y S I X

Cracks in the armor

As the days went by, Matsukawa’s absence felt more pronounced. They barely spoke, the gaps in their conversations growing wider as his family problems consumed him. Each time (YOUR NAME) reached out, she was met with a wall, his emotional defenses rising higher.

One Friday afternoon, she decided to confront him. They had planned to meet, but he canceled last minute, claiming he had “family stuff.” Frustrated, she showed up at his house unannounced, determined to break through his barriers.

When she knocked, his mother answered, surprise flickering across her face. “Oh, (YOUR NAME)! What a nice surprise. Matsukawa’s in his room,” she said, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Thanks,” (YOUR NAME) replied, her heart racing as she made her way upstairs. She knocked on Matsukawa’s door, her resolve firm.

“Matsukawa, it’s me,” she called softly.

“Go away!” he shouted from the other side, and her heart sank.

“Not until you talk to me!” she insisted, frustration boiling over. “I’m tired of this! I’m tired of you shutting me out!”

After a long pause, the door creaked open, revealing Matsukawa with disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes. “What do you want?” he asked, his tone defensive.

“I want you to stop pushing me away!” she exclaimed, stepping inside. “I care about you, but it feels like you don’t want me here.”

“I’m dealing with a lot right now!” he shot back, anger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it!”

“Then help me understand!” (YOUR NAME) pleaded, frustration spilling over. “You keep saying that, but you won’t let me in!”

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess!

(YOUR NAME) felt her own frustration boiling over. “You think I’m going to walk away because it’s hard? I’ve been here through everything! But you have to let me in!”

“Why can’t you just leave it alone?” Matsukawa demanded, his voice rising again, an edge of desperation in his tone. “You don’t know what I’m going through!”

“Then tell me!” she yelled back, her own anger igniting. “I want to understand! You’re acting like I’m the enemy, and I’m not!”

He looked away, his jaw clenched, frustration evident on his face. “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had to deal with family like mine!”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart sank at his words. “You think I don’t have problems? I’ve faced my own demons too, Matsukawa! You’re not the only one with a complicated life!”

“Maybe I just don’t want to burden you with mine!” he said, his voice strained. “Maybe I thought you’d be better off without the chaos!”

“Better off?” she echoed incredulously, tears stinging her eyes. “I don’t want to be better off without you! I want to be with you, even when things are hard!”

The silence that followed felt heavy, a suffocating weight pressing down on them. Matsukawa looked away, his expression unreadable. (YOUR NAME)’s heart raced as she watched him wrestle with his thoughts, and she could sense the walls he had built around himself beginning to tremble.

“Why do you care so much?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

“Because I love you!” she cried, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I love you, Matsukawa. I don’t want to walk away; I want to fight for us!”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. “You… love me?”

“Yes!” she said, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’ve loved you for so long, even when we were apart. You mean too much to me to just give up!”

The moment hung between them, charged with raw emotion. Matsukawa’s defenses began to crumble, but just as he opened his mouth to respond, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it and cursed under his breath.

“I have to take this,” he said, his voice distant again. “It’s my dad.”

“Matsukawa, please—” she started, but he was already stepping away, leaving her feeling empty and helpless.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y S E V E N

Under pressure

Over the next week, Matsukawa continued to withdraw, his struggles with his family leaving him emotionally drained. Despite her best efforts to reach out, (YOUR NAME) felt like she was losing him all over again.

At school, she tried to distract herself, but everywhere she turned, she saw reminders of him. Their shared memories haunted her, each laughter and secret now tinged with sadness. The walls around her heart began to feel impenetrable as doubt settled in.

One day, during lunch, (YOUR NAME) sat with her friends, forcing herself to smile. But her heart wasn’t in it. “Are you okay?” her friend asked, concern etched on her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a smile. But as she glanced at Matsukawa across the cafeteria, talking to a group of friends with a forced grin, her heart ached.

“Does it have to do with Matsukawa?” her friend probed gently.

(YOUR NAME) hesitated, feeling tears well in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do anymore. He keeps shutting me out, and I feel like I’m losing him.”

“Maybe you should talk to him,” her friend suggested. “Tell him how you really feel.”

“I tried,” (YOUR NAME) sighed. “But every time I reach out, he pulls away. It’s like he’s afraid to let me in.”

“Maybe he needs time,” her friend said softly. “But don’t give up on him.”

As the day went on, (YOUR NAME)’s thoughts spiraled. She knew she had to confront Matsukawa again, but how could she break through his walls without pushing him further away?

That afternoon, she found herself waiting by his locker, anxiety gnawing at her. When he finally approached, he looked surprised to see her.

“(YOUR NAME),” he said, his expression shifting from surprise to something more guarded. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” she said, her heart racing. “Can we please just talk?”

He hesitated, glancing around as if searching for an escape. “I’m kind of busy right now…”

“Busy with what?” she pressed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Avoiding me again?”

“No!” he shot back, irritation flashing in his eyes. “I just have stuff going on!”

“Like what?” she demanded, her voice rising. “More family drama? More excuses to push me away?”

His expression hardened, and she felt the familiar walls slam shut. “You don’t get it, (YOUR NAME). This is my life! You don’t know what it’s like to deal with my parents!”

“Then tell me!” she shouted, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. “Stop pushing me away!”

The fight escalated, words flying back and forth, each accusation and defense stinging like a slap. Students began to watch, their eyes wide with surprise as the tension thickened in the air.

“I don’t need you to fix me!” Matsukawa yelled, frustration spilling over. “I don’t need your pity or your help!”

“I’m not trying to fix you!” (YOUR NAME) shot back, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m trying to be there for you! But it feels like you don’t want me around!”

“I don’t want to be a burden!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the hall. “I can handle my own problems!”

“Clearly, you can’t!” she retorted, the anger spilling over. “You’re shutting everyone out, including me! You’re making this worse!”

With one final glare, Matsukawa turned and walked away, leaving (YOUR NAME) standing there, trembling with emotion and humiliation.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y E I G H T

The confrontation

The following day, the atmosphere was tense and cold. Matsukawa avoided her at all costs, his friends stepping in to fill the silence he left behind. But as (YOUR NAME) approached him after school, determination burned in her chest.

“Matsukawa!” she called, catching up to him in the parking lot.

He turned, his expression darkening at the sight of her. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what’s really going on,” she pressed, her voice steady despite the tremor of fear in her heart. “You can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. “You don’t understand how bad things are.”

“Then make me understand,” she urged, stepping closer. “You keep saying that, but you won’t let me in! I want to help you!”

“I don’t want your help!” he snapped, the words biting in the chilly air. “I don’t want you to see me like this!”

(YOUR NAME) felt a surge of anger at his defensiveness. “You think I’m going to judge you? I care about you, Matsukawa! Why can’t you see that?”

“Because you have no idea what this feels like!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the stillness of the parking lot. “I’m dealing with my family falling apart, and I don’t want you caught in the middle of it!”

“I’m already in the middle of it!” she cried, frustration spilling over. “You keep pushing me away, but I’m not going anywhere!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me!” he shouted back, his anger fading into desperation. “I can’t let that happen!”

“Let me decide what I can handle!” she yelled, tears stinging her eyes. “I’m not a child, Matsukawa! I can handle your problems if you just let me!”

His expression wavered, anger giving way to uncertainty. “What if it’s too much?”

“Then we deal with it together!” she cried, stepping closer, her heart racing. “But you can’t keep shutting me out. I love you too much to let you go through this alone.”

Matsukawa’s defenses finally crumbled, the fight leaving him. He stepped back, his expression raw with emotion. “I don’t know if I can handle this,” he admitted, his voice cracking.

“Then let’s figure it out together,” (YOUR NAME) urged, her heart aching for him. “Please, Matsukawa. I’m right here.”

The tension hung thick between them, but as he looked into her eyes, she saw the flicker of hope begin to spark again.

“I just… I’m scared,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” she replied softly, reaching out to take his hand. “But I promise I won’t let you go. We can face this together.”

For a moment, they stood there, their hands clasped, the world around them fading as they confronted the reality of their struggles. But as the warmth of their connection began to reignite, an ominous feeling crept in—the shadow of a storm brewing just beyond their fragile peace.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y N I N E

Torn apart

The fragile peace between (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa hung like a thin thread, each day filled with unspoken words and lingering doubts. Though they were trying to rebuild their connection, the weight of Matsukawa's family troubles loomed over them, threatening to pull them apart again.

One afternoon, (YOUR NAME) found herself waiting for Matsukawa outside of practice, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. As players filtered out, her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for him. Finally, he appeared, but something was off. The usual warmth in his gaze was replaced with a distant look, as if he were miles away.

“Matsukawa!” she called, waving him over.

He approached slowly, the tension radiating from him palpable. “Hey.”

“Can we talk?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite her nerves.

“Sure,” he replied, though his tone was flat. They stepped away from the bustling crowd, seeking a quiet corner.

“I know things have been tough,” she began, her heart in her throat. “But I’m here for you. I want to help.”

“I appreciate it, but…” he paused, running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” she pressed, her frustration bubbling up again. “You can’t keep shutting me out, Matsukawa! I can’t just watch you suffer in silence.”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he snapped, his voice sharper than she expected.

“Protect me from what? From you? You’re the one who needs protecting!” she shot back, hurt flashing in her eyes. “You can’t keep pushing me away. I care about you!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of my problems!” he exclaimed, the frustration in his voice rising. “You don’t know how bad it gets!”

“Then tell me!” she yelled, the anger erupting. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in!”

He stepped back, the distance between them growing. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you shouldn’t be involved at all.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart sank as his words hit her like a punch. “Are you really saying that? You’re going to just give up on us?”

“It’s not about giving up!” he argued, his voice tinged with desperation. “It’s about keeping you safe!”

“Safe from what?” she shouted, her frustration boiling over. “Safe from loving you? Safe from being there for you? I don’t need your protection if it means losing you!”

His expression softened momentarily, but he shook his head. “I can’t let you get dragged into this mess. It’s not fair to you.”

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to hold back her emotions. “You’re being unfair to both of us. We’re stronger together, and I thought you believed that too.”

As silence stretched between them, (YOUR NAME) felt her heart breaking. Matsukawa turned away, his fists clenched at his sides, and in that moment, she realized how precarious their situation truly was.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y

The storm within

The following week felt like a rollercoaster of emotions. (YOUR NAME) tried to stay strong, but the cracks in their relationship began to widen, fueled by misunderstandings and unspoken words. Matsukawa’s silence weighed heavily on her, each day feeling like a battle to stay afloat.

One afternoon, as she walked home from school, she overheard a conversation that made her blood run cold. A group of Matsukawa’s friends were laughing loudly, their voices cutting through the air.

“Did you hear about Matsukawa’s family? They’re falling apart, and it’s all his fault,” one of them joked, and the others burst into laughter.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart ached at the words. How could they joke about something so serious? Anger surged within her, and she felt a fire ignite in her chest.

“Shut up!” she shouted, stepping forward. “You don’t know anything about him or his family!”

The laughter died abruptly, and the group turned to her, surprised. “Whoa, calm down, (YOUR NAME). It was just a joke,” one of them said defensively.

“It’s not funny!” she snapped, fists clenched. “You don’t know what he’s going through! You’re just making it worse!”

“Wow, someone’s defensive,” another replied, rolling his eyes. “What’s it to you anyway? You’re not even dating him.”

(YOUR NAME) felt the sting of their words, but she couldn’t back down. “I care about him! And if you can’t see how much he’s hurting, then you’re not his friend at all!”

With that, she turned and stormed away, her heart racing. Anger coursed through her veins, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness. How could she reach Matsukawa when his friends were so toxic?

As she reached her street, she spotted Matsukawa walking toward her, a tense expression on his face. Her heart skipped a beat, but the anger from earlier fueled her resolve.

“Matsukawa!” she called out, hurrying to catch up with him.

He stopped, his eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“I just overheard your friends making jokes about you and your family,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s not okay. They don’t understand what you’re going through!”

His expression shifted, anger flashing in his eyes. “What did you say to them?”

“I told them to shut up,” she replied defiantly. “Someone had to! They were making light of a situation that’s tearing you apart!”

“Great, now you’re just making things worse!” he snapped, frustration evident. “You don’t need to defend me!”

“Why not?” she retorted, her emotions flaring. “If I don’t stand up for you, who will? You can’t just let them talk about you like that!”

“It’s none of your business!” he shouted, the tension between them sparking like a fire. “You don’t know anything about what I’m going through!”

“Then tell me!” she cried, her heart pounding. “Stop pushing me away! I’m here to help, but you have to let me in!”

The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken feelings. But Matsukawa just turned away, leaving her feeling lost and alone once again.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y O N E

Into the abyss

That night, (YOUR NAME) tossed and turned, her mind racing with thoughts of Matsukawa and their endless fighting. The pain of seeing him withdraw, coupled with her frustration, had built a wall between them, and she couldn’t figure out how to break it down.

As she sat up in bed, staring at the ceiling, her phone buzzed, cutting through the silence. It was a message from Matsukawa.

Matsukawa: Can we talk?

Her heart leaped at the message. She quickly replied, her fingers shaking with anticipation.

(YOUR NAME): Yes, where?

Matsukawa: My place. Tonight.

(YOUR NAME)’s stomach twisted with anxiety as she got ready, her mind racing with possibilities. What would they say? Could they finally break through the barrier between them?

When she arrived at Matsukawa’s house, her heart pounded in her chest. He opened the door, looking worn and tired, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes.

“Thanks for coming,” he said softly, stepping aside to let her in.

The moment she crossed the threshold, a wave of emotion washed over her. She felt the weight of everything they’d been through, and the uncertainty of what was to come settled heavily in the air.

“Let’s talk,” she said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. They settled on the couch, the tension between them thickening once again.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve just been so overwhelmed with everything.”

“I know,” she replied, reaching for his hand. “But you can’t keep shutting me out. I’m here for you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “It’s just… I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” she asked, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.

“Scared of dragging you into my mess,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart broke at his words. “You’re not a mess, Matsukawa. You’re human. We all have our struggles. I just want to be there for you.”

He looked at her, eyes filled with turmoil. “What if I can’t handle it? What if I push you away again?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” she replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “I love you, Matsukawa. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes searched hers, and for a moment, the tension seemed to dissipate. But just as she thought they were making progress, his phone buzzed on the table.

He glanced at the screen, and his expression changed. “It’s my dad.”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart drop. “Do you want to take it?”

“Yeah, I should,” he said, standing up. She watched him walk away, her heart heavy as she felt the walls between them rising once more.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y T W O

Beyond the point

Matsukawa’s call with his dad stretched on, and (YOUR NAME) felt the familiar ache of helplessness wash over her. As he spoke in hushed tones, frustration bubbled beneath her skin. She wanted to be the one he turned to, the one who could help him navigate his struggles. But every time he withdrew, it felt like another crack in their already fragile connection.

As Matsukawa ended the call, he turned to face her, his expression a mix of anger and frustration. “I can’t do this right now, (YOUR NAME). He just keeps piling on more pressure!”

“Pressure from what?” she asked, her voice steady, though her heart raced. “You don’t have to take this all on yourself. You can talk to me!”

“You wouldn’t understand!” he snapped, his voice echoing through the room. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a family that expects you to be perfect. I can’t disappoint them!”

“Stop treating me like I’m some outsider!” she yelled, the frustration spilling out. “You think I can’t handle your problems? You don’t give me enough credit! I care about you, and that means I want to help, even if it’s messy!”

“You think I want to be this way?” he shot back, pain flashing across his face. “I hate feeling like I’m dragging you down. I can’t let you see me like this!”

“Why not?” she cried, her heart racing. “Why can’t you just let me in? You’re pushing me away, and I don’t know how much more I can take!”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he said, voice rising. “If you really cared, you’d understand that some things are better kept hidden!”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart shatter. “You’re not protecting me, you’re isolating yourself. I want to be here for you, but you keep building walls! How are we supposed to move forward if you won’t let me in?”

Matsukawa clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. “I don’t need your pity!”

“It’s not pity!” she shouted, tears brimming in her eyes. “I love you, Matsukawa! I want to fight this with you, not against you! But you’re making it impossible!”

He hesitated, his anger flickering like a flame struggling against the wind. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then stop pushing me away!” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Please, just let me in. Let me help you.”

For a moment, the silence hung heavy between them, the tension palpable. Matsukawa’s expression softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Then let’s figure it out together,” she whispered, taking a step closer, her heart aching for him. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

But as she reached for him, he turned away, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t do this right now, (YOUR NAME). I need space.”

Her heart sank as his words hit her like a physical blow. “You’re really going to do this again?” she asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just need time to sort things out.”

With that, Matsukawa stepped back, creating an unbridgeable distance between them. (YOUR NAME) felt a mixture of rage and heartbreak as she stood there, helpless and alone, watching the boy she loved turn his back on her once more.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y T H R E E

Collision course

The next few days were excruciating. (YOUR NAME) tried to focus on her schoolwork and spend time with friends, but the emptiness left by Matsukawa’s withdrawal gnawed at her insides. Every time she saw him at school, her heart raced with a blend of hope and dread, wondering if he would finally break the silence between them.

One afternoon, while walking with her friends, she spotted Matsukawa across the courtyard, laughing with his teammates. The sight twisted her stomach. How could he move on so easily when they were teetering on the edge of a precipice?

“Are you okay?” one of her friends asked, noticing her distraction.

“Yeah, just…thinking,” (YOUR NAME) replied, forcing a smile. But inside, the turmoil was eating her alive. She had to confront him.

Later that day, she found Matsukawa alone at the edge of the school grounds, staring off into the distance. Her heart raced as she approached, determination flooding her veins.

“Matsukawa,” she called, her voice steady despite her nerves.

He turned, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. But the moment of connection vanished as he averted his gaze. “What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” she asked, taking a step closer.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he replied, his voice tight.

“It’s the only idea,” she countered, her frustration boiling over. “I can’t just keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s clearly not!”

“What do you want from me, (YOUR NAME)?” he shot back, his voice rising again. “I told you I need space!”

“I want you to stop running!” she yelled, anger coursing through her. “Stop pretending like you can handle this alone! I’m right here, and you’re pushing me away!”

Matsukawa’s expression twisted with pain. “You don’t understand! I’m dealing with things that you can’t even imagine!”

“Then let me in! Help me understand!” she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice. “I can’t keep watching you suffer like this!”

“I’m not suffering!” he barked, fists clenched at his sides. “I’m trying to protect you!”

“From what? From being by your side? From loving you?” she yelled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “You’re not protecting me; you’re torturing me!”

He flinched at her words, the tension thickening as silence fell between them. The weight of their unspoken emotions hung in the air, crackling with unresolved feelings.

“Maybe you should just walk away,” Matsukawa finally said, his voice quiet but firm.

“Walk away?” she echoed, hurt flooding her chest. “You want me to walk away when I care about you more than anything? When you’re clearly struggling?”

“I can’t keep dragging you into my mess,” he insisted, his voice breaking. “It’s not fair to you!”

“Then let me decide what’s fair!” she cried, frustration pouring from her. “You’re not the only one who gets to make choices here! I choose to be here, to fight for you, even when it’s hard!”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, voice trembling.

“Because I love you!” she shouted, her heart pounding. “And I won’t let you push me away without a fight!”

The silence between them was deafening, filled with the weight of her confession. Matsukawa’s eyes widened, shock etched across his face.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” he stammered, the battle raging within him. “I’m not worth it!”

“Stop saying that!” she cried, stepping forward. “You are worth it, and I won’t let you convince yourself otherwise!”

He shook his head, anguish twisting his features. “You deserve someone better than me!”

“No!” she yelled, determination surging through her. “I deserve you, Matsukawa. I don’t care about your family drama or the pressure you feel. I care about you! You can’t see how amazing you are because you’re too caught up in your own head!”

Matsukawa looked torn, the walls he’d built around himself beginning to crack. But just as it seemed he might let her in, the moment shattered as a group of his friends approached, their laughter echoing through the air.

“Hey, Matsukawa!” one of them called, oblivious to the tension. “We’re heading to the courts. You coming?”

(YOUR NAME) felt her heart drop as Matsukawa’s demeanor shifted, a mask of indifference slipping over his features. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replied, his voice lacking the warmth it once held.

“See you later, (YOUR NAME),” one of the boys said casually, turning away.

“Wait,” Matsukawa said, glancing back at her, but the distance had widened again. “I…we’ll talk later.”

With that, he turned away, joining his friends, leaving (YOUR NAME) standing alone, shattered and aching as the laughter faded into the distance.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y F O U R

Fractured bonds

The following days were a blur of silence and heartache. (YOUR NAME) felt lost, each moment without Matsukawa feeling like a wound that wouldn’t heal. She tried to stay busy, but every corner of her life reminded her of him. Classes dragged on, and even her friends’ attempts to distract her fell flat.

Then, one afternoon, as she sat alone in the cafeteria, her gaze drifting across the room, she spotted Matsukawa at a table surrounded by his friends, laughter echoing from their corner.

It twisted something inside her to see him smiling, but she couldn’t help but feel the ache of abandonment. How could he act like everything was fine when it was clearly falling apart?

Just then, one of his friends leaned over and said something that made Matsukawa laugh loudly. But the laughter was different; it felt forced, a mask he wore to hide the pain.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart ached as she watched him, the longing and frustration crashing over her like waves. She couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“Hey,” she called out, her voice steady as she approached their table. Matsukawa looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes, but his friends continued to chatter.

“Can we talk?” she said, her gaze fixed firmly on Matsukawa, determined to cut through the laughter and pretend camaraderie.

He hesitated, glancing at his friends before meeting her eyes. “Um, can it wait? We’re just—”

“No, it can’t,” she interrupted, her voice rising slightly in frustration. “This is important.”

His friends exchanged confused glances, and one of them smirked. “Looks like you’ve got company, Matsukawa. Go ahead, we’ll wait.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart raced, and she could feel the eyes of his friends on her, weighing her words. “I’m serious, Matsukawa. This can’t wait,” she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He sighed, the tension in his shoulders evident as he pushed back from the table. “Alright, let’s go,” he said, his voice resigned.

As they stepped away, (YOUR NAME) felt a sense of urgency, knowing this conversation was long overdue. “What’s going on with you?” she asked, keeping her voice low as they moved to a quieter corner of the cafeteria.

Matsukawa rubbed the back of his neck, looking conflicted. “I told you, I just need space.”

“Space? Or are you trying to run away?” she pressed, her heart pounding. “You’re acting like everything is fine when it’s clearly not. You can’t keep pretending like this.”

“I’m not pretending,” he shot back, frustration creeping into his voice. “I’m just trying to handle things my own way!”

“But you’re shutting me out!” she exclaimed, her hands trembling with emotion. “You’re not handling anything! You’re burying yourself in your friends while I’m here, feeling like I’m losing you!”

He flinched at her words, guilt flashing across his features. “I didn’t mean to… I just thought if I kept busy, I wouldn’t think about everything.”

“Running away doesn’t make it go away,” she replied, her voice softening. “You need to confront it. We need to confront it. Together.”

“Together?” he echoed, disbelief creeping into his tone. “You really think it’s that easy? You don’t understand the pressure I’m under. My family expects me to be perfect, and I can’t let them down!”

(YOUR NAME) stepped closer, her heart aching for him. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, Matsukawa. I just want you to be real with me. To let me help you. I care about you, and I hate seeing you struggle alone.”

He looked away, the conflict within him evident. “You don’t get it. I can’t drag you down with me. I don’t want to see you hurt because of my problems.”

“I’m already hurt!” she countered, tears brimming in her eyes. “Every time you push me away, it tears me apart. You’re not protecting me; you’re just making me feel more helpless.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t want to hurt you. You mean too much to me!”

“Then stop hurting me by shutting me out!” she cried, her voice rising again. “We can fight this together. I promise I won’t judge you. Just let me in!”

For a moment, his expression softened, and she could see the internal struggle etched across his face. But then, he hardened again, pulling away as if her words had struck a nerve. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” she asked, desperation spilling into her voice. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of failing,” he admitted, voice trembling. “I’m afraid of letting you down, of dragging you into my mess and ruining everything.”

“By not letting me in, you’re already ruining everything!” she yelled, feeling the weight of their unresolved issues crashing down on her. “I’m not asking for perfection; I’m asking for you to be honest with me.”

Matsukawa looked torn, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of hope. But just as quickly, it disappeared. “I can’t do this right now,” he said, backing away from her.

“Don’t walk away from me!” she pleaded, reaching for his arm. But he flinched, stepping back out of her grasp.

“I need time,” he repeated, his voice firm but filled with pain. “I just… I need to figure things out on my own.”

Her heart shattered as he turned away, leaving her standing alone, feeling like a piece of herself was being ripped away. “Matsukawa!” she called, desperation clawing at her throat, but he didn’t turn back.

As she watched him walk away, the laughter of his friends faded into the background, leaving her feeling hollow and lost. She had fought with everything she had to reach him, but it hadn’t been enough.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y S I X

In the shadow of doubt

Days turned into weeks, and the distance between (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa only grew wider. Despite her attempts to reach out, he remained elusive, retreating into his own world while she fought against the overwhelming tide of loneliness.

The pain of their fractured bond gnawed at her, leaving her feeling like an outsider looking in. She filled her days with distractions—study sessions, hanging out with friends—but no amount of laughter could chase away the shadow that Matsukawa’s absence cast over her life.

One afternoon, (YOUR NAME) found herself walking through the park, lost in thought. As she passed a small café, she spotted Matsukawa seated at a table with his friends, laughter spilling from their group like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a mix of anger and longing surging within her. How could he laugh so easily when they were in turmoil? But as she watched, something shifted in her stomach. A girl leaned in close to Matsukawa, her hand playfully brushing against his arm, and he laughed—genuine laughter that stung like a knife to (YOUR NAME)’s heart.

Feeling a wave of jealousy crash over her, she turned away, fighting back tears. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to scream at him, to demand why he was moving on without her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she continued her walk, the ache in her chest growing heavier with every step.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the park, (YOUR NAME) found herself sitting on a bench, overwhelmed by her emotions. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he see how much she cared? It felt like their connection was slipping through her fingers, and she was powerless to stop it.

Just then, her phone buzzed, interrupting her spiral of thoughts. It was a message from her friend, inviting her to a gathering later that night. Normally, she would have jumped at the chance to hang out, but tonight, she felt too fragile.

(YOUR NAME): I’m not feeling great. Maybe next time?

Friend: Come on, it’ll be fun! You need to get out and have some fun. Matsukawa isn’t worth this sadness.

The words stung more than they should have. But deep down, she knew her friend was right. Matsukawa had distanced himself, and she couldn’t keep waiting around for him to come back.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to join her friends. They met at a local café, where laughter and chatter filled the air. For a moment, she allowed herself to get swept up in the light-hearted atmosphere, enjoying the company and the delicious treats.

But as the night wore on, her mind kept drifting back to Matsukawa. The way he laughed with that girl. The look in his eyes when he glanced her way. Doubts gnawed at her: had she lost him for good? Would he move on and forget about her?

Just as she was lost in her thoughts, her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a notification from social media. One of Matsukawa’s friends had posted a picture of their group, and there he was—smiling, surrounded by laughter and light. The girl was right next to him, their faces close together.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart dropped, the pang of jealousy mixing with despair. She quickly closed the app, the world around her blurring as she fought to hold back tears. She couldn’t keep doing this. She had to confront him.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y S E V E N

Confrontation

The next day, (YOUR NAME) decided to confront Matsukawa once and for all. She had spent enough time spiraling in doubt and insecurity. If he wouldn’t reach out, then she would.

After school, she made her way to his house, her heart pounding in her chest. She knocked on the door, her stomach twisting with anxiety. A moment later, Matsukawa opened the door, surprise flickering across his face.

“(YOUR NAME)?” he asked, his voice uncertain. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “Can we go somewhere private?”

He hesitated, glancing back inside his house. “Um, yeah, okay,” he replied, stepping aside to let her in. They walked to the backyard, where the setting sun cast a warm glow over the grass.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his tone guarded.

“I need to know why you’ve been shutting me out,” she said, her heart racing. “Why you’ve been avoiding me and pretending everything is fine when it’s clearly not.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “It’s complicated, (YOUR NAME).”

“Complicated or not, I deserve an explanation,” her voice was firm, but her hands trembled at her sides. She had never felt so vulnerable.

Matsukawa sighed, his eyes flickering with guilt. “It’s not like I’ve been trying to avoid you on purpose. I just… I don’t know how to deal with all this. My family, school, you… it’s overwhelming. I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” (YOUR NAME) said, her voice breaking. “You don’t get to push me away just because things are hard. I want to be there for you, but you keep shutting me out.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, his expression pained.

“But you did hurt me,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “Every time you disappeared, every time you laughed with your friends and left me wondering where we stood… it broke me.”

Matsukawa looked down, the weight of her words sinking in. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“You don’t see what you’re doing because you’re so focused on protecting yourself,” (YOUR NAME) said, stepping closer, her voice filled with both anger and sadness. “But it’s not just about you, Matsukawa. We’re in this together—or at least, I thought we were.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting hers for the first time with real sincerity. “I never meant for it to get like this. I thought if I could keep everything separate, you wouldn’t have to deal with my mess.”

“But that’s not how relationships work,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “I want to deal with your mess. I want to share the burden. That’s what being together means.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken emotions, the weight of their shared pain pressing down on both of them. Finally, Matsukawa took a deep breath.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared that I’ll let you down, that I’ll fail you like I’ve failed my family. I didn’t know how to tell you that.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart softened at his words. “You don’t have to be perfect, Matsukawa. I don’t care about your family’s expectations. I care about you. And I’m willing to fight for this if you are.”

He looked at her, the walls he had built around himself finally starting to crumble. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away until now.”

“Then stop,” she said, stepping even closer, her hand reaching for his. “Let me in. Let’s figure this out together.”

Matsukawa hesitated, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. Then, slowly, he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… didn’t know how to ask for help.”

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” she whispered back, squeezing his hand. “We can face it all together. Just promise me you’ll stop running.”

He nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. “I promise.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, (YOUR NAME) felt a sense of peace wash over her. The storm that had raged between them had finally calmed, leaving behind the hope of healing.

As they stood there, hand in hand, under the fading light of the sunset, (YOUR NAME) knew they still had a long way to go. But for the first time, she felt that they were on the same path—together.

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y S E V E N

Fragile reconciliation

The days following their confrontation were tentative, as though they were both walking on eggshells, careful not to fracture the fragile reconciliation they had just begun to rebuild. They talked more—about school, about their families—but the heart of their problems, the emotional distance that had plagued them for months, still loomed large between them.

Matsukawa was trying, though. (YOUR NAME) could see it in the small ways he reached out—sitting closer to her at lunch, sending her late-night messages to check in, even showing up unexpectedly outside her house just to walk her to school. He was present in ways he hadn’t been before, and yet, there was still something that kept them apart.

One evening, as they sat in (YOUR NAME)’s room, books sprawled across her desk for a pretend study session, she couldn’t take it any longer. The silence, once comfortable, now felt heavy with unspoken words. She closed her textbook with a loud snap.

“We’re not really okay, are we?” she blurted out.

Matsukawa looked up, startled. “What do you mean? I thought things were better between us.”

“They are,” (YOUR NAME) admitted, “but there’s still this… distance. I don’t know if we’re just avoiding it or if it’s something else.”

Matsukawa sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture she had come to recognize as his way of stalling for time. “I’m trying, (YOUR NAME). I really am. But I guess part of me is still scared.”

“Of what?”

He looked at her, his eyes shadowed with doubt. “Of screwing this up again. Of losing you.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She stood, walking over to where he sat on her bed. “You won’t lose me, Matsukawa. But you have to stop holding back. I need you to trust me, to trust us.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, she feared he would retreat again. But then, slowly, he looked up, eyes filled with a kind of determination she hadn’t seen before. “You’re right,” he said, voice low but steady. “I’m done running.”

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y E I G H T

The unraveled

The weeks that followed saw Matsukawa and (YOUR NAME) slowly piecing themselves back together. They spent more time together, but the road was far from smooth. There were still fights, still moments of doubt, but they faced them head-on rather than letting them fester like they had before.

One particularly bad argument erupted over something trivial—a forgotten date night. (YOUR NAME) had waited at the restaurant for over an hour before realizing that Matsukawa had been caught up with his family’s endless demands. It was a misunderstanding, but it triggered old wounds.

“You promised you wouldn’t shut me out again!” (YOUR NAME) shouted, her voice trembling with hurt as they stood outside her house later that night.

“I didn’t mean to, (YOUR NAME)! You know how my family is,” Matsukawa countered, frustration clear in his voice. “I couldn’t just walk out on them.”

“You could’ve called!” she snapped. “You could’ve let me know! I was waiting there like an idiot, wondering if you’d forgotten about me again.”

“I didn’t forget! I was trying to make everyone happy, and I—”

“That’s the problem!” (YOUR NAME) interrupted, her voice rising. “You’re still trying to do everything on your own! You promised you’d let me in, but you’re still keeping me at arm’s length.”

For a moment, Matsukawa stood there, his face etched with frustration and guilt. Then, without warning, he crossed the space between them, grabbing her hand and pulling her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I messed up. Again. But I don’t want to lose you over this.”

(YOUR NAME)’s anger faltered at the sincerity in his voice, but the hurt still lingered. “I don’t want to lose you either, Matsukawa. But you have to stop pushing me away when things get hard. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“I know,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ll do better. I swear.”

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y N I N E

The breaking point

As much as they tried to move past it, the argument left a lingering tension between them, one that neither of them could quite shake. Matsukawa was true to his word—he made more of an effort, called more often, and included her in more of his life—but something still felt… off.

It came to a head one night when (YOUR NAME) found herself scrolling through old photos, memories of when they had been inseparable, when the world hadn’t yet forced its cracks into their relationship. Her phone buzzed—it was a message from Matsukawa, asking if she wanted to meet him at the park.

She agreed, her stomach fluttering with nerves. When she arrived, she found him sitting on a bench, his expression unusually serious. The moment she sat down, she knew this wasn’t just a casual meet-up.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice hesitant.

(YOUR NAME)’s heart skipped a beat. “About what?”

“About us,” he said, meeting her gaze with a mixture of fear and resolve. “I’ve been holding back because I’m scared. Scared of letting you down, scared of not being enough. But I’ve realized something—if I don’t stop hiding, I’ll lose you anyway.”

(YOUR NAME)’s breath caught in her throat. “Matsukawa…”

“I love you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve loved you for a long time, but I was too scared to admit it. I thought if I kept things casual, if I didn’t let myself feel too much, I could protect us both. But I was wrong.”

Tears welled up in (YOUR NAME)’s eyes. She had waited so long to hear those words, but hearing them now—so raw and vulnerable—shook her to her core.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ve always loved you.”

Before she could say another word, Matsukawa closed the distance between them, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, fiery kiss. It was as if all the pent-up emotion, all the fear and doubt that had kept them apart, had finally found release. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer, and she responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair as she poured every ounce of her love, her frustration, her relief into the kiss.

They kissed with an urgency that left them breathless, their bodies pressed close as if they couldn’t bear to be apart any longer. When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, their breathing heavy, the world around them spinning in the aftermath of what had just happened.

“I’m done running,” Matsukawa whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion. “I’m all in, (YOUR NAME). I’m not holding back anymore.”

“Good,” she whispered back, her heart soaring. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

C H A P T E R F O U R T Y

The promise

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, but this time, it wasn’t marked by fear or doubt. (YOUR NAME) and Matsukawa were finally on the same page, finally fighting for their relationship together instead of against each other.

There were still challenges—Matsukawa’s family continued to pressure him, and (YOUR NAME) still had her moments of insecurity—but now, they faced it all hand in hand, with a newfound strength that came from finally being honest with themselves and with each other.

One afternoon, as they sat beneath the cherry blossom trees in the park, Matsukawa turned to her, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone light but serious. “About our future.”

(YOUR NAME)’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

He nodded, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I do know one thing—I want you with me. Wherever life takes us, I want you by my side.”

Tears welled up in (YOUR NAME)’s eyes, but this time, they were tears of happiness. “I want that too,” she whispered.

Matsukawa leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, and when they pulled apart, he smiled down at her, his eyes filled with a warmth that made her heart flutter.

“No more running,” he said softly.

“No more running,” she echoed, her hand finding his and squeezing it gently.

As they sat there, watching the petals fall around them, (YOUR NAME) felt a deep sense of peace settle over her. They had been through so much—fights, misunderstandings, moments of doubt—but they had made it. Together.

And for the first time in a long time, she knew they were going to be okay.

The future, once uncertain and filled with fear, now stretched before them like a promise—one they were ready to face, side by side.

The End.

#seijoh #aoba johsai #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #hq matsukawa #haikyuu matsukawa

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myprincejinnie · 11 months ago

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fic recs for my anime hotties!!

-separated by anime & character and then genre-

if it has more than one genre like mafia and soulmate au then i will put it in the section that i think it leans more towards, but most will have summaries and warnings as well so it will be easy to figure out (hopefully lol). the genre is more au based and not like friends to lovers and stuff bc most aus have those genres as well and it is hard to separate. if it doesn't have an au it is prob in others. this list looks kind of scuffed bare w it pls. i really just made this to keep track of my fav fics so i can reread them. + some of them i haven't read in a while. and others i didn't add bc they are either on hold or it is pretty obvious that they are never going to be finished )); i really like hybrid, a/b/o, and soulmate aus so lots of those !! i go to tumblr after finishing my manhwas and when i get tired of trying to find fics on ao3, so i prob have more on the ao3 list. in regards to this anime tumblr fic rec list, i have a lot more on the ao3 list but it is going to take forever to put together . . . i am scared.

find other group and fandom lists here.

>>the mentioned ao3 list<< this one is going to take a while lol . . .

📕 - one shot/head cannon/short

📚 - series

🔃 - ongoing

✅️ - completed

🔞 - smut + not going to put all warnings for the type of smut going on in each so make sure to read warnings on the og post jic

Kiyoomi Sakusa (Haikyuu!!)

___soulmate au___

Soulmate!Sakusa x Reader by watevermelon📕

Summary: request --

>> Warnings & Tags: none. Notes: I love this author so lots from them!!

Golden Swirls by hawks-supremacy📕

Summary: when Sakusa's sister told him how people found their soulmates, he was disgusted. or at least until he found his. >> Warnings & Tags: no warnings, fluff and angst

___childhood friends___

Envy by watevermelon📕🔞

Summary: Childhood friends with Sakusa Kiyoomi, you were sure that your unrequited desires would simply stay that way. From play-dates in his backyard to being the manager of the Itachiyama volleyball team, you were content with watching your friend pursue his dream. >> Warnings & Tags: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 394, Explicit one-shot; smut, Porn with Plot; Unreliable Narrator; Jealousy but actual mutual pining; lots of Humor; semi-public sex; dominant Sakusa; near face-fucking; finger fucking; eating out

___fluff___

Quiet Sort of Love by watevermelon📕

Summary: As manager of the Fukurōdani volleyball club, there was no doubt that Itachiyama’s Sakusa Kiyoomi was a strong ace. He brought your team to their knees on multiple occasions, but what you were not expecting was getting to know the nationally acclaimed spiker beyond just the titles and labels. >> Warnings & Tags: Implicating language and slight spoilers toward the end (you will be warned beforehand :)), lots of fluff, angst, slight BokuAka, character development, mutual pining at one point, Buckle up boys cause this is a LONG one LMAO

Tetsurō Kuroo (Haikyuu!!)

___soulmate au___

He's my soulmate by honeypirate📕

Summary: You can communicate telepathically with your soulmate, sending thoughts and feelings to them. it’s a skill that develops through time after you hit 17. it takes a few months for the connection to grow so for the first little while not a lot comes through. So far you have similar songs getting stuck in your head and thoughts will come through quietly. You tried once to send specific messages but you never had any responses to them so you tried to just go about your day, excited with any thought or songs that come through. >> Warnings & Tags: Kuroo x f!Reader soulmate AU, soulmates

Soulmate Singer by sundrop-tetsu📕

Summary: your voice was truly something. he loved hearing it. and he often heard you singing. but honestly, he thought it was a mere hobby of yours. finding out his soulmate is american was a bummer because of the distance. but hey, you have a concert in tokyo coming up. and thankfully, his friends are your biggest fans >> Warnings & Tags: kuroo tetsurou x gn!popsinger!reader, gender-neutral reader

HAWKS (MHA)

___soulmate au___

Falling for You by flannel-cladpika📕

Summary: This AU is from my list of BNHA Soulmate AU’s. This one took a lot longer than most of my stories do, but I like the way it turned out. Enjoy! Hawks x F!Reader soulmate au >> Warnings & Tags: none, female reader

TOJI (JJK)

welp . . . i will just call this

___smut___

Bunny Girl Toji by aizawa-horny-brigade📕🔞

Summary: Request -- Toji with a cute bunny girl. She’s sweet and allows him to do whatever he wants with her. Always wakes him up with a bj 🥺Who knows how a mean asshole like him got her to begin with. Certainly seems like the type to have “won” her from a shitty owner after gambling. >> Warnings & Tags: male receiving oral, Toji being a bully

milkmaid. by aizawa-horny-brigade📚✅️🔞

Summary: straight smut, y’all. Downright filth 😤 ✨enjoy✨ >> Warnings & Tags: literally smut, read warning for each part, part 1 -- Farmer!Nanami x Chubby!Cowgirl!Reader (ft. Puppyboy!Yuji), part 2 --Wolf!Toji x Chubby!Cowgirl!reader & Farmer!Nanami x Chubby!Cowgirl!reader, part 3 -- Wolf!Toji x Chubby!Cowgirl!reader & Farmer!Nanami x Chubby!Cowgirl!reader

GOJO (JJK)

gojo. by demxnscous📕

Summary: gn + sorcerer!reader, mutual pining, reader and Gojo are good friends, he gets a little possessive(?) in this, extended metaphors yay >> Warnings & Tags: none.

LAST UPDATED/ADDED ON: 12.21.2023

#anime rec list #fic rec #jjk ff rec #mha fic rec #fanfic rec #rec list #fic recommendation #fic rec list #haikyuu fic rec

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thegeminisage · 7 months ago

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as someone who wasn't around in 2014....can you tell me what it was like? (stucky) can you give me a taste of the gardens of babylon etc

what was it like...this is such a fun question i want you to know i gave serious thought to my answer and also discussed it at length with my 2014 friend last night and i know already it's gonna be so long. sorry that i answered your ask at fuck o clock in the morning i am scheduling it to go up later and also at the time you sent the ask in to make sure you see it

ok so like. i mean, you're on the fandom website, right, so i assume youve been in fandoms. idk if youve ever been in a really, REALLY big fandom, at the same time that said fandom was also producing content (even if the source material was not). think d*stiel post nov 5, or undert*le circa late 2015/early 2016, or z*lda after totk came out, or h*rry p*tter as the seventh book was being released. (i'm censoring to avoid a false positive of anybody's blacklist except in the case of the last one, which i am censoring out of <3 disrespect.) like there's something REALLY luxurious about being in ANY large and active fandom and it's mostly the power of crowdsourcing. st*r tr*k 2009's tarsus iv headcanons. the storm trooper lore re: the f*rce awakens before the second two movies came out. everyone just kind of agreeing that dean w*nchester was a teenage hooker. you know?

like, that's "just fanon," sure, but part of the beauty of it is that no one person makes up fanon, we all gather in the biggest writing group in the world and collectively go insane and bat ideas back and forth. there are a hundred THOUSAND fics about bucky barnes on ao3 and that's just the people who were writing, not even counting artists and gifmakers and meta-writers and people who just reblog stuff. i can't possibly begin to put an accurate number to how many people are in any given fandom at any given time, but imagine (on the low end, i'm sure) there are THOUSANDS, perhaps tens of thousands, of people going nuts about stevebucky at all times. tens of THOUSANDS people doing "yes and" with each other on the internet 24 hours a day seven days a week. it's just like being in any fandom, you log on to your dash and see what the mewchies posted while you were gone, but in a fandom so huge and so active you were getting bombarded with idea after idea after idea every single second, so if you don't like one you're spoiled for choice in what you engage with next. it didn't even matter that cap3 was two years away or that it sucked when it finally got here because we collectively wrote cap3 a million times over. like, genuinely, it was a mass creative exercise. it's the biggest writing group in the world. for better or worse, we were shaping our own version of that universe, without any input from or regard to the people who actually created the characters and movie, in a way that compelled most strongly to our own tastes and demographic.

what made this particular movie/fandom special though was a few things. firstly i still genuinely believe it was ahead of its time...marvel shit pre disney was allowed to be political in ways it is ABSOLUTELY not now. like, cap2 could say "the government is secretly full of nazis and they all need to burn" in 2014 two years before the 2016 election and 7 years before jan 6. like you just couldn't say that now. "war bad" is an oldie but goodie, but "our entire government is corrupt and needs to be torn into flaming pieces and cast into the potomac" is um. pretty radical. so is, by the way, "men as victims" and "men having emotions" etcetc. like, not in fandom, fandom all but invented that shit, but as far as dumb superhero movies go. i can't tell you the number of metas i read AND WROTE discussing steve rogers and masculinity and how all that was portrayed, intentionally or not, in that fucking film. i had entire separate universes built up in my head for steve who was born a cis girl and steve who decided later in life that "nonbinary" or "trans woman" was a better fit and then steve who was born as a cis boy and remained a man his whole life but felt weird and different ways about being queer which clashed with the weird and different ways BARNES felt about being queer. i'm not saying the film (or the fandom! good lord) was perfect, it was a product of its time, but it was also WAY ahead of its time too. it was weird to expect the next film to come out and actually, like, be good. it wasnt, but we fully believed it would be and that wasn't delusional behavior because the last one had been. i would never have that kind of faith in a marvel project now because they've been bought by disney.

oh yeah and that's the other thing too like. speaking of queer people. gay marriage wasn't legal in the US on a federal level until 2015, and you couldn't just flip on your TV and see them whenever you wanted. ten years doesn't seem like that long ago in the grand scheme of things but like, we lived on glee and cw/mtv queerbait (disclaimer that i personally only participated in cw queerbait) and that was it. we had crumbs. and like when people write gay characters theyre Just Gay, but if you decide to be crazy stupid in a slash fandom you can decide these layered characters are gay and that's even better rep than um whatever was going on in other pieces of media. these guys are both so lonely and out of step with time and lack other people with "shared life experiences" (girl what the hell was that) and their connection w each other keeps them afloat in a world that doesn't want them so like of COURSE it seems like it's supposed to be romantic. and like, i could and did make myself and my tumblr buds crrrazy (and got made crazy by them) thinking about:

how steve's size when small and again when big interacted w his gender identity and his sexuality and how that sexuality manifested. barnes's identity As A Man hinging on his ability to go to war for his country bc Thats What Men Did but now he's no longer fit because theres worms in his brain. loss of bodily autonomy which usually happens to women and natasha being later in that journey than steve and bucky are and so close to being at peace with it but not there yet. stigmatization of seeking treatment for mental health issues lessened by the presence of sam who could have been a Macho Tough Guy but actually gives off strong Talk About Our Feelings And Be Soft vibes. don't even get me started on the relationship (predatory) between steve and rumlow and how it parallels the one between barnes and pierce (and if any of you motherfuckers BREATHE a word of that h*dra tr*sh p*rty shit in my direction i will END you) and the stigma that comes from being preyed on when vulnerable As Men. steve's depression and ptsd and him getting triggered by, yes, the fucking ALS ice bucket challenge. the collective belief that he was conscious when he was frozen even though nobody said that so that he and barnes could have that in common too. the headcanon about barnes having roma heritage - shoutout to not easily conquered my beloved, and the 14k smut coda i wrote for it✌ speaking of smut, i would be remiss also not to mention there was a STRONG element of collective lust involved. i'm immune to 99% of it bc im ace but the winter soldier was uh. VERY graceful. you know? i didn't write 14k of porn because i was uncompelled. we were on one. we went fucking crazy. fandom in general but especially big fandoms have a kind of nonstop endless well of creative energy born from obsession that is the absolute envy of people like my mortal enemy grrm. we NEVER quit.

also, HISTORY (and other vaguely educational subjects). we were all so desperate to know how steve and bucky would have lived in the years we couldn't see them it sparked a sitewide interest in 1940s american history. there was a thing about bananas tasting different now because of a plague. m&ms being invented as wartime candy. stuff about how shoebox apartments looked and how rations worked. 1940s recipes and radio shows. the 1940s queer movement and how it interacted with ballroom dancing and private drag get-togethers. how amputations work and how prosthetic limbs work in real life so we could extrapolate it to fantasy. how to hand-draw that fucking arm in photoshop. why soldiers are trained to say their serial numbers when captured. what ww2 was like. what dog tags are for. what did they get in the ration packs. what brand of cigarettes did they smoke. what brand (and i am being so serious, i STILL own a tube) of LIPSTICK did peggy carter use. caloric intake of someone with a 4x speed metabolism and how much famine peanut butter he'd need to eat daily to keep from starving to death. oppression of irish immigrants and their children/grandchildren back in the 1940s. the difference between conservatives and fascists, back when there was a difference. what activities generally took place on these mysterious but ever-present new york city docks. just exactly HOW many terrible movies and tv shows has sebastian stan been in ranked by his resemblance to james buchanan barnes in each one. (i personally went through his entire imdb list at the time and then made a venn diagram.) electroswing! teachers and professors would have killed for their classes to have the kind of enthusiasm a bunch of mentally ill teenagers and 20-somethings on tunglr dot edu were showing about this one very specific set of subjects. this film also sparked my love of fight scenes. if you've read this fic or this fic and liked the Big Fight Scenes in them, you can thank cap2 for leading me down that path.

and then yes there was also discourse. my personal most hated thing was the above mentioned h*dra tr*sh p*rty (DO NOT GOOGLE THAT, i will just tell you it's nazi rape porn🤢 and i hope everyone involved is having a bad day today) and also the fact that SOME FUCKING PEOPLE can't understand "don't be shitheads about a fanfic where the author can see you doing it." but then ofc people were also sexist about nat and racist about sam and minimalizing those guys (and every other character besides tony really but sometimes him too) for the two white male leads was a whole thing. and on the funnier side of things you had (justifiably, i suppose) bitter st*ny fans who HATED what those two got in avengers and got real mad when stucky started outpacing them on ao3. and people complaining about the characters being too uwu soft. and then other people arguing whether or not barnes counted as disabled when he was missing a Whole arm. and THEN discourse about was it ethical to remove the arm and build him a new one ESPECIALLY without his consent (if people don't know they're being ableist in their fanfics hypothetically is it still ok to kill them with hammers?) and why was tony doing it if that guy killed his parents and is it ok that we keep making tony not that mad about his dead parents is it not enough that barnes stole his limelight as the guy who gets shipped with steve but what if all three of them fucked but can you really fuck the guy who offed your folks but ACTUALLY isn't it cringe to like tony anyway since RDJ and gwenyth paltrow are bad people and who says chris evans are sebastian stan are such good people etcetcetc. and let us not even get started on the plausibility of the avengers tower fanon after age of ultron came out and it turns out nobody became friends and they all still hated and mistrusted each other. and whether or not the avengers could be considered found family if the other characters were constantly getting shafted into being barnes's little support animals. and then ofc every once in awhile one of the actors of people involved creatively would say something ranging from mildly controversial to absolutely horrible on the internet and we'd all fight about THAT for awhile like a dog with a bone. i mean. typical infighting of any fandom tbh.

but i was very happy. it was all the most enormous thought experiment and creative endeavor (and semi-educational adventure??) that we all participated in daily for like two-ish years without stopping ever. i loved doing it. AND, when you click with a piece of media like that, you also click with other people who clicked with that same piece of media, so in addition to the sheer level of dopamine going into my brain at all times i also formed decade-long friendships that will certainly last the entirety of my lifetime, and when we're in our 90s in nursing homes i will be able to say, "we are friends because i wrote 14k of smut for your fanfic" or "we are friends because i couldn't get enough of your gifsets" or whatever because you know, we quite literally went to stucky together.

#liz answers asks #anonymous #personal

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sailing-through-hawkins · 1 year ago

Text

tagged by @xenon-demon @rogueddie and @a-little-unsteddie (≧∇≦)ﾉ

this took me SO LONG to compile because not only did i change my username to be like three times longer but i also added a challenge for myself to use songs i associate with steve (and tumblr deleted my drafts. three times.)

i've also added why i associate them with steve because some of these options may seem odd and also because i love going off about my steve thoughts (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

edit: FORGOT TO ADD THE RULES -

put a song for each letter in your url! either in a reblog or new post!

S: Solar Powered by Fulton Lee, Jacob Sigman

(i imagine a very light-hearted rollerskating session with Steve and Max during summer time, both pulling fancy moves while the rest of the UD gang cheer them on)

A: A Little Bit Happy by TALK

(this gives me Steve talking about how Robin sees him, major self-esteem issues, etc etc)

I: I Was Made For Lovin' You by KISS

(this is the one KISS song i put on loop, and like to me, steve feeling like he was made to love just hits different)

L: Lovely (cover) by Lauren Babic

(i ADORE this artist and this particular cover makes me think about separated stobin in the russian bunker, major angst, 5k with a happy ending -)

I: I'm on Fire by Bruce Springsteen

(i started listening to springsteen after reading this fic that i highly recommend, and this song just got me, it felt so appropriate for steve)

N: Not Alright by Pink Sweat$

(very big steve coping all alone after he deals with the latest UD incident vibe)

G: Golden Hour by JVKE

(i will always promote sun-and-gold-coded steve, always)

T: The One That Got Away by Katy Perry

(okay this one's a little tricky, but after i started this blog i listened to this song and was struck by a steve-centric animatic concept that would take way too long to explain but the Story is There)

H: Her Song by Kaylee Federmann

(same situation as above but this animatic would be a college au ft. Steve's serial dating)

R: Rot by DBMK

(SUCH A STEVE SONG IF YOU LIKE STEVE BEING GUILTY/INSECURE OVER HIS OLD REPUTATION THIS IS THE THEME YOU NEED)

O: On and On by Djo

(i'll be honest this one is purely because it's by Djo but it's a good vibe!!)

U: Untouched by The Veronicas

(OKAY THIS ONE this one gets me it gives me pining and touch-starved friends-with-benefits steddie, the chorus goes so hard for me)

G: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

(it's by queen, it's called lover boy, need i say much more?)

H: Holding Out for a Hero by Adam Lambert

(i was struggling and went through charlie's wonderful playlist and was like oh OF COURSE how did i miss that?? but i went for this version because it really does remind me of steve back in the junkyard)

H: Here's to Being Single by Lost Stars

(ooooh this one!!! it makes me think of stobin lamenting over not being able to get their romantic relationships just right together)

A: Ashes (cover) by Lauren Babic

(again UGH this artist sings so beautifully and this cover really makes me think of the desolation spreading after season 4 and the whole UD gang doing their best to push it back)

W: When the Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get Going by Billy Ocean

(i imagine steve thinking about leaving hawkins often and listening to this song while he drops Dustin off just so he can daydream about it)

K: Kids In America by Kim Wilde

(more of a general UD gang vibe, like the camera cuts to each of them prepping for battle and then fighting against every UD creature that comes their way together)

I: (I Just) Died in Your Arms by Cutting Crew

(once again provided by charlie's playlist after i was struggling to find a good match, like hello self-sacrificial steve anyone)

N: Night Vision by Drives the Common Man

(i loooove the chorus in this, and it also makes me think of monster!steve which we know is what i'm all about)

S: Stranger Things by Survival Kit, IAMCOUCHSURF

(yeah this one was purely for the title, also more monster vibes ( •̀ ω •́ )✧)

i'm too tired to tag anyone so if you see this and wanna try it out yourself, consider this me tagging you!!

#sailor✧speaks #music #tag game #it sure would be embarrassing if i misspelled my username here hahaha

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 year ago

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hii i have returned with my ramblings on SITH like i do every chapter lol :))

omg the mention of friedrich being “scary looking” reminded me of that time u said that only the mc genuinely finds him handsome & i still have not recovered from that /pos

I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABT THAT TIME FRIEDRICH BEAT HER UP DURING TRAINING, THE MEMORIESSS

i love how much falco looks up to the mc & how this chapter kinda showed her being a mentor to him, it was so sweet <3 falco being out of breath from JOGGING is so real, like he’s just like me fr we’re both terrible at running

I CALLED IT THAT FRIEDRICH WOULD INHERIT THE JAW, ALL THE SIGNS WERE POINTING TOWARDS HIM LMFAO

the irony of colt being the first of the trio to inherit his titan & also being the first who will die. idk if u plan on diverging from the canon plot & having him live or just sticking with canon plot, but the “i’ll be the first” line rlly hits hard either way, & it’ll hit especially hard if he still dies.

now that i think abt it, the trio rlly is just the found family trope & im gobbling that shit up bro, i love them with all my heart 🫶 i feel like they’re not only soulmates, but also the “our fates are intertwined in every universe” trope as well. so even if one of them dies & the other two have to live on w/o them or two of them die & the last has to preserve their memory, all 3 of them will meet again in another lifetime. they just can’t be separated (they come in a set LMFAO). that’s my take on their relationship at least.

i hope u like my theories & takes lol. when im super invested in smth, i always like talking abt it & going in-depth bc that’s just what i like to do. even if i get some shit wrong (when theorizing or analyzing), that’s ok, bc im just having fun & enjoying smth im interested in :))

hope ur doing well & taking care of urself!! remember to hydrate & get lots of rest. and dont overwork urself (even tho that’s prolly easier said than done). <3

— 🪐

HIII I love your ramblings I always smile when I get the notifications!!

LMAOOO I would like to slightly revise that and add that friedrich isn’t really considered ugly by anyone either he just always looks 0.5 inches away from snapping so people are too busy being scared of him to think he’s handsome. Ofc the mc knows him so well that she sees past that and can appreciate him for what he is <3

HAHAHA IT WAS SO LONG AGO THEY WERE SUCH LITTLE BABIES BACK THEN!! So much has happened since then 🙁

I wanted to somewhat show Y/N being a good person again since we’ve seen so many chapters of her struggling and overcoming her faults and traumas. She’s definitely not a perfect person but she can be very kind at times and she is canonically super good with kids so I thought showing her and falco bonding and her doing something for someone other than herself would balance out the heaviness of everything post-athyae. falco is so sweet I actually love him sooo much but I was lowkey dying writing him in this chapter because he’s just so hopeless 😭 I would like to add that in the running scene Y/N is the one jogging…my man falco is SPRINTING to keep up with her 😩 up to interpretation whether it’s because “slow” for Y/N is fast for like anyone else or because falco is just really not athletically blessed.

I feel like friedrich being the jaw titan is the most obvious choice. He’s way too slippery (does that even make sense?? Idk how else to describe it) to be the armored titan and way too independent to be the colossal, he could be the cart but tbh Y/N just exemplifies the cart to me I couldn’t see anyone else inheriting it, colt being the next beast has been a thing since like the first chapters of the fic, and he just…is not a girl so I can’t imagine him as the female titan.

I won’t spoil the trio’s fates, but writing that scene knowing their futures was definitely painful. I’m trying to write and update more often so you don’t have to wait years to find out what happens to them because there is SO much planned for the future of this story. I’ve been struggling because the past two mini arcs (which were titled return to liberio and warrior’s welcome if you were wondering) have been the hardest to write so far. They’re a lot more introspective and focused on Y/N’s mental development, conflict, and recovery, so it was a lot of just “people visiting houses” with inner monologues as opposed to plot and external conflict. The next mini arc is very different though so I’m excited to get to that!! One more chapter of warrior’s welcome and then I’m finally free 😭

I ADOREEEE FOUND FAMILY!! That’s why endure and SitH are my favs, I feel like they both have their own versions of the found family tropes that make me feel so 😫 but the trio and the endure crew are definitely super different. like the endure found family is just a bunch of siblings (case in point Y/N and Jean) but the trio defies categorization. They’re in love but they’re best friends but they’re somehow more than that?? Idk their dynamic isn’t something I’ve written before but it’s definitely one of the most interesting I think!! (I’d say it’s my favorite but my favorites are endure jean and y/n, endure eren and y/n, and promise y/n and tullia, with an honorary mention to endure y/n and tullia)

I LOVE YOUR THEORIES SO MUCH!! I won’t confirm or deny if they’re right because I don’t want to spoil but I love reading them and responding to them so much. It makes me sosososo happy that you’re so invested in this random story I decided to write on a whim one day and that you’re having as much fun with it as I am. Your asks motivate me sm because with a story like SitH it can sometimes feel like I’m only writing for myself (which is good because it gives me creative freedom but sometimes demotivating as there’s no engagement)

Thank you so much and remember to take care of yourself as well!!

#ship in the harbor #answered asks

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sunrisetune · 2 years ago

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SUP GOOSE SUP I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS FOR YOU (ao3 wrapped) :3 :3 :3

(3) What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

(18) The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

(30) Biggest surprise while writing this year?

(Referencing this ask meme)

HELLO HEYYY thank you!

This is something of a reduced exercise bc I've posted five (5) short fics this entire year,, (at time of drafting this),, but nonetheless! x)

3 -- I like how "The Zee And The Lonely Sky' turned out. At first it was a collection of journal entries (guess what else was happening this year that helped inspire that p: ), but then I felt like it'd drag a bit and that,, like,, fleshing out my in-universe idea of how my two characters knew each other would be worthwhile. And it was fun \o/ Fallen London game... good.

18 - This is a much longer answer bc I'm going to take the liberty of rambling about a character in a fic whomst I haven't actually posted yet: Justice x) For my WriMo this year I finally started a DA fic that I've been vividly daydreaming about for like a month but never actually writing, as you do (/jk). It's a post-DA2 into DAI redemption arc for our favourite SJ spirit W; or recovery arc, maybe. This is the summary I made for it in November:

Through an act of violence Anders and Justice were, finally, separated, though at cost to them both. Afterwards, Justice found their way back into the mortal world almost entirely by accident. But only almost. Possessing the still-living body of an elf woman whose mind is somehow missing, once again unable to leave the flesh and unrecognizable to anyone who'd known them before, the spirit makes a pilgrimage of sorts to Skyhold. Apparently there had been an attempt at peace that had gone horribly wrong, and the rising powers tipping the balance in the Mage-Templar War had congregated at the top of the mountain. Justice would join them. When Justice gets to the castle, she finds Hawke, because of course she does.

The idea of a personification of justice as an elf woman in the uhhhh wretched hive that is the rest of DA lore was interesting to me; and also specifically a retroactive / parasocial spite response to trivia I read, that before DA2 was made the writers were considering having Justice merge with Velanna but David Gaider thought that would've made her ""more annoying than she already was"". Fuck off, David I feel like there's a decent amount of fic where Friendship Route Anders and Justice are separated and Anders is for the most part written as being better off, while Justice is able to go back to the Fade, and then just??? Fucks off, I guess?? And is never really mentioned again, which I was not entirely persuaded by. So I decided to try and write something that follows Justice through being separated from Anders and surviving it and then having to, you know,, Deal With All That, especially while the war is going on, bc, like,, I’ve always read Justice’s and Anders’ actions in DA2 as both of them being scared. Justice is more afraid of becoming a demon than anything else, even non-existence,, and it happened; it very nearly cost him and Anders their life even before Anders literally asked Hawke to murder them after committing the worst act they’d ever do.

And while I am uhhh not entirely disposed towards a lot of what happened in Inquisition, I really liked Cole’s storyline of reverting from being a demon, and then having a choice on what he wanted to become; I thought that it’d be interesting to follow Justice down a similar arc.

30 - Does "shipping characters I didn't necessarily think about at first" count as s surprise bc if so, Awakening-Anders/Justice, which is at least partially your fault SYRUP :p I specify Awakening bc, not to get kind of maudlin in the middle of a cheerful ask answer about shipping, but unfortunately, Dragon Age (that's it that's the joke)

#Please excuse any weird sentence chunks; my brain is made of beans #Also: 'Retroactive Parasocial Spite Response' is the first album of my imaginary video game-core band #syrupwit #Thank you for the question! <3 #asks and answs #Goose's writing tag by Goose #long post

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marley-manson · 2 years ago

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Marley I want allll the mash ones but in the spirit of behaving myself, can I request... two? Is that one too many? My top picks are 'beejhawk pwp' and... 'bi conversation', I think. If you've already got requests for these, 'closed doors' and 'vampire pwp'. :)

Thank you, lol feel free to request as many as you want <3

beejhawk pwp is like 3 paragraphs so far but the kink is basically orgasm denial and BJ getting dommy, in an established kinda weird fwbs relationship that I didn't want to put too much thought into. the main idea behind it, other than the kink lol, was wanting to write something where hawkeye and bj's kinky interests mostly align but also clash a little, so like, hawkeye's into the kinky sex game aspect but not so much the power exchange bj wants to lean into. I think there were a couple fics with this kink posted at around the same time that had me like, 'I want to do my own spin on this.' and then I lost interest, at least for now. might go back to it at some point though.

BJ was halfway down his throat when the door creaked open and Hawkeye threw himself backwards onto the floor, gagging with how suddenly he had to pull away. Off-key humming and the sound of stumbling footsteps followed; Charles had returned from the O-Club early, drunk and jovial. Bastard. Hawkeye watched BJ hurriedly tuck his erection away and zip himself up before Charles even noticed them there, and mourned his own loss. He’d been looking forward to getting off with BJ’s dick in his mouth and now he’d be lucky if he even got the chance to take care of himself at all tonight.

bi conversation is here

closed doors is the BJ goes to Boston fic. the title is meant to evoke both a 'behind closed doors' vibe w/ BJ feeling shut out, and 'when one door closes another one opens.' It's technically Hawkeye/OMC with one-sided Hawkeye/BJ - I was considering going with Hawk/Trap but I figured that would shift the focus too much onto Trapper and Hawkeye whereas I want this fic to be all about BJ, and I had been kinda wanting to write something where Hawkeye gets together with someone entirely separate from the war.

They continued on through the crowds, record tucked under Hawkeye’s arm, until they reached a white-bricked building on a corner. “This is our stop,” Hawkeye said. Out of some habit or instinct BJ automatically maneuvered ahead of him to hold the door open.

He flushed slightly but Hawkeye didn’t miss a beat, batting his eyelashes and saying, “Such a gentleman,” with an affected southern lilt.

He’d missed this.

Vampire pwp is virtually nothing but an idea that those halloween AUs getting tossed around at the end of October made me think of lol, basically a world with accepted vampires in which a vampire can like, imbue humans with healing powers that replenish their blood quickly, so they can be fed off of every night. So BJ is a vampire and Hawkeye is a human who already has that healing factor from like, a past relationship lol, which is in his medical file and which is partly why he was chosen for the draft, so he could fill the dual role of surgeon and vampire food.

And also there's sex.

#and again i actually don't know if you write fic but if you have wips and want to do this please do!#text post #ask meme #marley on mash

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canongf-archive · 2 years ago

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hey this is weird but i wanted to ask someone who seems good at advice - is it wrong that my bf isn't really in on my selfshipping? i don't see it as cheating, i love him v much and can separate silly fictional fun from reality, it's more just that he's a 'real' creator (worldbuilding, fic, original content) so i'm worried he'd look down on me for being so selfindulgent i guess? i'm not very subtle and have talked about an ocxcanon pairing before, he has some himself and seems decently cool w selfship (he sent me a funny post once w/ the term f/o in so i think he Knows on some level) but he doesn't know about my sideblog or anything and i dunno, i feel bad that i'm afraid to let him in on something so important to me but as w/ most of my obsessions i somehow feel less silly talking to total strangers than people who actually know me lmao, is this a problem? any thoughts would be appreciated </3

i think you and your boyfriend are the only people that can decide if this is a problem or not, anon! 💗

i completely understand why you're hesitant to share this part of your life with him... it's really vulnerable! and being that vulnerable with someone you know and care for is scary! you're opening yourself up to the feeling of judgement and rejection! i get that! i don't blame you! and ultimately! it is completely up to you whether you decide to share this part of yourself with him or not.

but honestly, he sounds really cool! and it sounds like you have a good relationship with him! and if you're considering telling him, i think you should. i think you should tell him exactly what you told me (or at least something similar), that you're nervous about opening up about this because you're scared it'll be perceived as too self indulgent or as something negative, but that it's a big part of your life and you want to share it with him. give him all the information and give him the opportunity to be good to you!

one of two things will happen! he won't think negatively of you or of this at all, even if he doesn't completely understand he'll be excited that you're sharing this part of yourself with him and he'll support you! or! he will think negatively, he will think it's self indulgent, he won't appreciate what it meant for you to open up and share this part of yourself with him... and it might be a sign that he's not the right person for you. because you deserve to be seen and understood and supported in every part of your life and in every aspect of who you are, including this one.

whatever you decide, anon, how much to tell him, how to tell him, when to tell him, if you even wanna tell him at all... that's all up to you. it's up to you to decide if it's a problem or not. you know how you feel and you know your boyfriend, and you just gotta listen to your heart and do what feels true to you! 💗

#it's all gonna work out my friend!!!#sending u love and peace!!!#advice.ask #anon

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zorilleerrant · 3 months ago

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Hmm. I'm going to sort mine.

title is a literal description of the story (”5 times x did y”, “first kiss”, etc)

perfect formatting, title is evocative of the story’s main themes

song lyrics

3 feet long all lowercase (overlaps w/ song lyrics)

one word. only one.

title seemingly has nothing to do w/ the content of the story until it gets dropped during a high-tension dramatic scene 70k words in, making you feel like the world meant for you to be born in time to read it

really bad pun

“Song title (and the rest of the song title)”

A singular word that you don’t recognize, then the definition is the summary

Movie reference Non-musical media reference

Clever double-layer meaning

Help I’ve never titled anything in my life I don’t know what this is I just want it to be out of my hands and posted neither you nor I will ever be pleased with this

I currently have 115 fics on Ao3. Using the above criteria, I’ve determined by own naming predilections.

1: Fifteen. Named for what it says on the tin, because I couldn't think of anything else to do with it, or because naming it the obvious thing is just what makes sense.

(The Hogwarts Gender Union; A Cure For Ohan; Pineapple Pizza; Third Sister; Captain Marvel's Day at the Beach; Are You. You Know. Adopted?; 5 times Marcus hated superheroes and 1 time he didn't; A dog might have got blipped! NOT CLICKBAIT; Harry Potter in: The Batfam Goes To Therapy; Another Loki; Truth or Dare; Heir of Slytherin; Seventh Son; The Yule Ball; Conversations Between a Father and Son)

2: Twenty-two. This makes sense because this is what I think of as a 'normal' title and tend to aim for.

(Growth Like A Nurtured Vine; Providing for the Future; In Every Reading Room; Keep The Hearthfires Burning; The Platitude Against The Wall; A Place To Rest Your Head; To Honor A Debt; What We Learn In Chinese School; In The Mythic Tradition; Half Gay/Half Straight; Even A Broken Clock; On Loan from the Wayne Family Collection; This Changes Nothing; Just a Perfectly Normal Rabbit; Five Degrees West; Narcissus at the River's Edge; Educational Overnight; Everybody Makes Mistakes; Forever Home; Small Town Mentality; Best Hadron Collider; Father of the Year)

3: Seven. Way more than I thought, honestly. I use lyrics when I'm struggling to title because it's in the genre tradition.

(but my dreams they aren't as empty; They Call Me Her; I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon; it's a love story baby just say yes; Good Girls Stay Alive; You're gonna go far, kid; Love Will Tear Us Apart)

4: Zero. The longer a title gets the more antsy it makes me, so I tend to avoid long titles.

5: Seventeen. I used to use these a lot to get easy titles, but then I realized I had no idea what fic that was when it got a kudos, so now I only use a single word if it's unique enough that I can remember why I'd name something that.

(Faildeadly; Anabasis; Y-incision; Proprioception; Change!; Anathema; Terrible; Protest; Marathon; Frieda; Worry; Answers; Parabatai; Courage; Besties; Ferret; Babyproofing)

6: Zero. I've only got the one super long fic and it's got the more obvious song naming instead.

7: Ten. Bad puns... or really good puns? Hmm?

(Faire's Fare; Just Monkey Business; When Pigs Fly; Robin's Egg Blue; Ace Shot; The Magic Word; Gift of the Magpie; Attraction; Captain America's Gay Fling; Swearing a Red, White, and Blue Streak)

8: Zero. I just don't like the format.

9: Zero. It always feels condescending to me to assume people don't know a word, so I try not to define them.

10: Twenty-five. Referential titles are an easy go-to for me. I did notice several of them either took a quote directly from canon or used a titling/title card convention from canon, so I wonder if that should be a separate category, or two different ones. I'm also uncertain whether mythology/folklore references should be considered 'media references', or maybe grouped in with titles taken from aphorisms and sayings. Do enough people quote Shakespeare to give him his own category?

(One Face, One Voice, One Habit, and Two Persons; Tendi and T'Lyn at Their Table; Red Bean Buns of Destiny; Does Talia Have A Sister?; Who Gets To Decide Her Own Damn Fate; The Excellent Adventures of Keanu Rhesus; My Concealed Lady; Stabby the SecUnit; Rapidly Expanding Air; The Monkey or The Egg; Words, words, words; And the Mischief of Monkey; In the Museums of the Night; Auntie Yelena Saves Christmas; Dick Grayson, College Student; Meanwhile, At Gotham Grace; Animorty Cricksing: New Pants; Better Together; Don't Call Me Nymphadora; Brightest Witch of Her Age; Just Tonks; Not Always in the Same Way; No Flamz Prepz; A Fish Without A Bicycle; The Boy)

11: Eight. I'll be honest I assumed I'd have more of these because I do love multi-layered meanings. I try hard to achieve them but I'd say they're the most difficult sort of title.

(A Great Deal; Just a Moment of Peace; The Family You Build; Where There's Life There's Hope; Love Like A Sister's; Coffee or Tea?; Brain Freeze; Something that Starts with a P)

12: Eleven. Yeah. Sometimes I struggle with a title for so long I just give up and name it whatever pops into my head....

(Billy Batson in the Wrong Dimension; Incentive Structure; The Burden of the Sword; One Last Kryptonian; An Island Paradise; The Superhero Code; What Makes A Hero; Happy Year of the Tiger; The Smallest Details; Plot Armor; A Better Mousetrap)

types of fic titles

title is a literal description of the story (”5 times x did y”, “first kiss”, etc)

perfect formatting, title is evocative of the story’s main themes

song lyrics

3 feet long all lowercase (overlaps w/ song lyrics)

one word. only one.

#look i said something

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ukulele-mixtape · 4 months ago

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Maple Scraps: The Siren's Call Chapters 12 + 13 (i don't feel like posting them separately lol)

context: angst scenes. tune got outed as the siren when eggman attacks restoration hq and basically destroys all of tune's hard work by making metal sonic install a vocal distortion collar on her, forcing the voices she's taken to retreat back to their owners and her own going to metal sonic, rendering her completely mute. silver and sonic confront her.

this was the last set of chapters i worked on bc then i realized i actually had to finish the fic properly, and even then the chapter's unfinished and ends completely abruptly (i have no desire to actually finish it) LMAO

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

CHAPTER 12:

“Twili…o quis,

..shu ento…vi.

Abed…so…on,

Qwe…olda..e...”

A song. A voice, no, multiple voices chimed in like a prayer floating in the wind, faint and pure.

It was beautiful. It was quiet. It was eerie. It was haunting.

…Where…was this…?

The voices continued, but they were no longer beautiful. They were destructive. They were blinding. They were painful. It was agony. Static rang, filling the fabric of reality and mercilessly breaking it at the seams. The broken choir sounded as if they were being signaled off from a dying record player. There was nothing left in their wake. Nothing could stop them. Nothing at all. He felt the world shake around him, every corner of this endless void of nothingness was out to get him.

It was just pure noise! Noise filled the air! It wouldn’t shut up, it wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried to scream, to yell anything! He wanted to scream, please, let him scream! Let him do anything!!

“Mu…as on…se,

Aln…ov…luuv...

tWli vO eqUiS,

aln nIv wO OLDANCE–”

STATIC FILLED EVERYTHING. EVERY THOUGHT, EVERY BREATH. MORE AND MORE, UNTIL HE COULD NO LONGER HEAR THE CHOIRS HAUNTING MELODY. UNTIL THE STATIC WAS ALL THAT WAS LEFT.

IT WAS TORTURE! OVERSTIMULATING!! HE COULDN’T TAKE IT!!!

WHY WAS IT SO LOUD?!

W H A T W A S T H A T M E L O D Y–?!

Sonic woke up with a heaving gasp. He struggled for oxygen. For anything he could grab onto as he jolted forward from his bed, head beaded with sweat. His breath was shallow, harsh, like if he had just gotten out of the deepest, darkest trenches of the ocean after struggling to surface for weeks. But just like he’d been dealing with for the past month and a half, his mouth uttered no sound. The echoes of his dream rang in his ears, clinging to his brain and bashing itself into his psyche. His head was pounding, the worst migraine he’d ever experienced in his life mangled his skull, and he couldn't think clearly at all. The warm light of the room was too much for him to bear, piercing into his eyes and causing him to squint harshly. He could see specks of color from the corners of his vision, floating around as if to mock his current suffering.

What the hell was this?

He couldn’t hear a thing. The ringing in his head became louder. And this time, he’d finally understand that he couldn’t ignore it, he couldn’t just think it’d eventually go away. Not this time.

Everything seemed to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes and plugged his ears, trying to get any sensory input to be as muffled as possible. But no matter what, it’d still hurt; the pain dreadfully persisted. He wouldn’t notice the periodic yelling of his name was getting more frantic, but he did feel every vibration it had to offer even from far away. He was sensitive to everything around him, and he hated it. He was completely, totally, debilitated. Just like in that void of endless harmony.

Finally, for what felt like an eternity, he felt firm grips on both his wrists that he clung close to his face as he clenched his hands into tight fists, and he had to forcefully pry his eyes open to take in Silver's overly distressed expression staring back widely at him.

“I’m right here,” Silver repeated over and over breathlessly. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I’m right here.”

But as soon as Sonic took notice, suddenly, like if it never happened, the noise just…completely stopped. The pain evaporated, the ringing silenced and he was finally able to take in his surroundings clearly, his body relaxing after a good long while of unconsciously being tense, a deep inaudible sigh exiting his mouth before he even had the ability to even process it.

“Hey, are you okay?” Silver brought Sonic back to reality, releasing the blue hedgehog’s wrists and cupping his face gently with his hands. Sonic felt Silver’s warmth even under his gloves, a soothing feeling washed over him. He closed his eyes, sleepily smiling and gave a small nod in response. He placed one of his hands atop one of Silver’s at his face, taking another deep breath and sighing, feeling the way Silver would rub his thumb against his soft muzzle.

“Y-you sure?” Silver questioned again, his tone quivering a bit. “You…you looked like you were in a lot of pain.”

Sonic took his hand off Silver’s, signaled for him to look down and began signing.

“I’m fine. It’s gone now.” his nimble hands spoke for him.

Silver, ever the worrier, shook his head with an elongated breathy sigh. “You really scared me. If I hadn’t come, I feel like you would have been like that for a lot longer.”

“I’m sorry, I promise, it’s over. I’m good.”

“Promise?”

Sonic warmly looked back at his partner, leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. Once Silver had that predictable blush festering on his cheeks, that soft grin he’d love to watch for eternity, he signed once more pointing one finger to his lips, before setting it down on his opposite hand balled into a fist.

“I promise.”

Reluctant, but deciding to trust him, Silver tightly embraced Sonic quietly, feeling the way Sonic’s body reflected his once frantically beating heart now starting to slow down into a soft, comfortable rhythm.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” Silver softly uttered. “That weird dream.”

Sonic gave him a small nod in return.

“That’s the first I've seen you get this bad before. I got up earlier than you did, so I just wanted to take a walk and get some air.” Silver rambled off, shuttering. “And when I came back you were holding your chest like you were having a heart attack! I tried nudging you at least a million times to wake you up, but nothing was working. You weren’t responding this time. And when you did wake up, you started convulsing and I didn’t know what to do, Sonic. I didn’t know, and you…” He trailed off.

Sonic rubbed against Silver’s back quietly, patting him gently to urge him to finish his thought.

“...You looked like hell. You didn’t register anything. We’ve been here at least a few minutes now.”

Had it really been that long this time? Sonic grimaced at the thought, choosing to tighten his grip on Silver and feeling the edges of his tuft tickle his nose, sinking deeper. Years ago, he’d probably never be this touchy feely with anyone. But now, he’d make any excuse to cling onto Silver like he was the last man on earth when they were alone. Silver reciprocated in kind.

“You shouldn’t have to go through this.” he mourned. “And I know you’re tough, I get it. We’ll get through this like we do everything else. But…I still can’t help but feel like I'm failing you right now because I don’t know what to do to help you. I should have been there with you the day you got your voice taken. I should have been there to protect you both.”

Sonic shook his head, rubbing soothing circles on Silver’s back, causing him to pull Sonic closer.

“I know…” Silver muttered affectionately. “What’s done is done. And I know we’ve got this. We’ve got this, and will fix this and we’ll do it together. Just like we always do.”

Sonic nodded once more, a smile gracing his features that Silver couldn’t see just yet. Silver could feel Sonic’s breathing become slower, more relaxed. But…he still couldn’t hear it. It made Silver’s heart ache. Sonic’s voice was truly gone. Silver couldn’t help but at least try to imagine what he remembered of it, goofy and cocky and full of life. His laughter was chirpy and quick, his tone lower in recent years yet still full of that same energy Silver knew and loved. Even if it had only been a short time, Silver felt like not hearing Sonic’s precious way of speaking was crushing him. Like he lost a part of what made him him.

And every time he’d turn the corner, Silver could see Sonic reflexively try to sound anything he could while he mingled with his friends. And when Silver noticed how inevitably disappointed he’d be when nothing came out, taking out his phone and tapping away his desires to show whomever it was, when he had to start reteaching himself and reusing sign language, something he hadn’t wanted to use since he was little, it bore into Silver’s chest, reminding him of how much he’d scorn the person who had robbed Sonic of that freedom he so desperately wanted back.

Eventually, Silver was shifting forward for Sonic to lay back on the bed, resting his ear against Sonic’s chest and taking in the way his heartbeat thumped against his ribs, the closest he was ever going to get to any noise coming from his partner. He sighed, Sonic swiping a hand against Silver’s quills. And they just laid there for a while, just basking in each other's warmth. Sonic patted Silver’s head gently to get his attention soon, and slowly the psychic obliged, raising his head and placing his chin comfortably on Sonic’s chest, their noses just barely touching, sharing a loving gaze with each other, their minds confident and resolute.

They’d been through the worst of the worst in the past, fighting off time manipulating monsters and killer robots, doppelgangers and zombie hordes alike. There was nothing these two couldn’t handle; not just together, but with every ally they'd ever known, every friend they’d ever made. Regardless of the circumstances, Sonic knew they were in good hands and with a toothy grin and his playful tongue out, he would remind Silver of the same. Sonic may have lost his voice, but that alone wasn’t what made him who he was. He was everything, he was the world that Silver was desperate to protect.

The two leaned in for another good morning kiss, routine as usual…

And that’s when they heard the firing of something loud from above them, so loud the sound echoed for a few seconds into the atmosphere. Then, a deep booming crash, and the sound of yelling coming from just outside their room, the vibrations causing small pebbles from the ceiling to fall, startling the two out of their shared bed.

“What the heck was that?!” Silver’s beading golden eyes flared, head jolting in every direction.

Sonic wasted no time, rising to his feet and throwing on his sneakers, snatching the door open and taking off, a powerful gust of wind trailing behind him as he sped past the hallways. Silver was right on his tail, flying to follow Sonic down to the main hall. People were scrambling to gather their bearings, yelling and running towards the closest emergency exits they could find, some of which were blocked off by heavy metal panels torn from the roof. There was a gaping circular hole in the center of the upper wall in the main hall, smashed and crawling with badniks making their way inside. Small fires were erupting, stone and metal paneled debris littered the floor, causing a few people to stumble.

Sonic waved in Silver’s face from above, signing quickly at him.

“Get that debris cleared from the exits, I'll help take out those badniks!”

“On it!” And with that, Silver was off, charging up a boost of energy to send him skyrocketing across the clamor, starting with the most crowded area of the headquarters, the main entrance. A large, looming boulder stood in the way, glass shards everywhere, most likely it was chucked at the window and landed square at the door. With a strong clench of his fingers, Silver took a deep breath and clawed his hands, performing a raising motion of his arms, a blue aura forming around the boulder. Slowly but surely, it was moving upward, rising from the sky almost like magic. The scrambling civilians would take off, some thanking Silver in scattered chirps as he held onto the boulder as best he could. Once a good amount of people were out of the way, Silver lowered the boulder to face right next to the entrance, unable to do anything more than that for the time being: there were still blockages to free up.

–

The robots may have not been all that tough, but they came in droves and were quick as can be, circling around the blue hedgehog in waves. Sonic blazed into the hordes of the badniks littering the floors. Flying Spina’s came from above, slicing into the air, but Sonic quickly dodged and attacked, utilizing an already destroyed Motobug as a weapon, sending at least a few Spinas into the nearest wall with a hard metallic SLAM! Then came the Buzzbomers and Egg Pawns. A cocky smile etched into his muzzle as Sonic quickly disposed of the trash, revving up a spin dash into the crowd of Egg Pawns, the robots barely having a moment to even swing at him with their pointed swords.

Once they were taken care of, he’d homing attack into the Buzzbomers charging straight for him, bashing in their heads, small explosions raging behind him. And just as Sonic thought it was over, giving a flick to his nose in satisfaction and wiping his hands clean as he landed swiftly on the ground, a swing from a very familiar hammer came just beyond his peripheral vision, taking out a leftover Egg Pawn he’d neglected, leaving a large, heavy imprinted dent on the robot’s head. He watched as it fell motionless, and Amy casually swept in to meet his gaze, his posture showcasing how taken aback he was as she casually leaned her body against the weight of her Piko Piko Hammer. Nevertheless, he was thrilled to see her, giving her a big thumbs up.

“You missed one,” she mocked teasingly. Sonic sucked in his teeth playfully, crossing his arms mouthing a quick “Thanks, Ames”.

“The Diamond Cutters are with Silver; they’re helping out with the hordes invading just outside the main entrance, but there’s apparently still commotion coming from the shopping center. Let’s get down there!”

Sonic nodded in understanding, scooping up Amy in his arms bridal style, speeding towards the shopping center's direction. From the distance, they could see more badniks, larger and covered in tough armor, but strangely enough, entering the fray of the nearby shopping center were three mechanical Mobian-like beings, haunting distorted noises echoing from their caged mouths. They had smooth paneled heads with embedded over-ear headphones on the side and a faceplate with a colorful equalizer where their eyes should have been. They sported arms with mechanical drum hands, and their torsos were devoid of legs, a large disco ball-like base in place of them spinning around and allowing them to float.

The two didn’t hesitate, Amy taking a direct assault at any robot dumb enough to get close, effortlessly slamming her hammer against their hard metal frames. Sonic confidently allowed her to work her magic, zipping past and making sure to keep her protected, dodging all obstacles. The badniks were taken care of swiftly, but now it was time for the Robo-Mobian creatures. Determined, Amy called out to Sonic:

“Sonic! Croquette Bomber!” Oh yeah, this was so happening.

Sonic gently placed Amy down, excitedly getting into a ready position before revving up another spin dash, this time much faster, the speed taking off tiny bits of the floor as he rolled. Amy steadied her aim with a focused tongue to the side of her mouth, widening her stance and bending her knees, before swinging her hammer with the force of a thousand suns. Sonic went flying, but before he was able to even make a connection, the Robo-Mobians screeched a loud, high pitched noise, a sonar-like wavelength warping the area causing Sonic and Amy to groan out in pain. Sonic lost his balance, tumbling forward and reflexively covered his ears to muffle out the noise, but as soon as he did, he was viciously tackled by the neck to the wall of the clothing boutique by another one of the Robo-Mobians. Amy ran towards the blue hedgehog, readying another swing, but another screech from the other two Robo-Mobians decidedly ended her attempt to save Sonic, making her collapse in distress, her hammer falling close behind as she covered her ears.

“Amy!” Sonic mouthed out in alarm. Squirming in place, he managed to get a harsh kick to the chest on the Robo-Mobian in front of him, forcing it to crash into the other robot, freeing himself. He was on his feet in a flash, rushing towards Amy’s trembling side, placing a hand on her shoulder. Amy gave a quivering nod of assurance, looking shakily at the enemies before them.

“W-what are those things?” she whimpered. “They don’t look anything like the usual Eggman robots.”

Sonic shook his head in response. The Robo-Mobians quickly recovered, speeding towards their opponents and readying their drum hands, flying into the air preparing to go in for a smash. Sonic acted fast, snatching Amy away and hopping to the top of the boutiques shop, the latter grabbing her hammer as quickly as she could, before the robots broke through the tile, the floor violently crumbling away.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Amy called out. “We can’t take these things alone, they’ll just keep using that awful noise to down us again.”

She was interrupted by the Robo-Mobians charging their flight once more, ready to take off against the hedgehog duo, when suddenly…

“...You better step off!” A ear piercing roar followed by a massive energy blast came from just beyond, knocking the Robo-Mobians into the glass of the clothing store. Tune clumsily stepped into the limelight, heaving breaths as her eyes glowed a vicious yellow hue, her fashion glasses placed firmly on her head. Her demeanor said everything: she was overwhelmingly pissed.

“Yo, any day today y’all!” She annoyingly called out. “Get your butts in gear and help me take care of these goons!”

It took a second, but Sonic recovered leaping into action, Amy following close behind and running up to a rising Robo-Mobian, giving a hearty punch in its direction, finishing the job Tune started. The robot was sent packing, exploding from out far, bits of its body scattering. As they did, colorful red, blue and green auras emanated from their cores, Tune’s eyes widened in horror as they scattered into the distance.

Amy lept in for the other robot ready to ambush Tune from behind, slamming its head into the tile with her hammer hard, the mechanical pieces dripping when she lifted up the mallet, another purple aura materializing and floating away. The three were breathing hard, Tune much more so than the others, having a moment to finally recuperate. Once they were able to catch their breaths fully, Amy and Sonic both gave bright smiles to Tune, walking towards her carefully. But Tune was solely focused on the machine just in front of her, its body twitching weakly as a teal colored vapor seeped out of the wires of its chest cavity.

It couldn’t have been…

“Tune!” Amy cried, raising her arms in an attempt to give Tune a hug. “We didn’t know you could do something like that! Thanks for the save–”

“...This is...a Melodian.” Tune whimpered, halting them in their tracks, the duo taking note of her clawed hands balling into tight fists, so tight in fact they swore they could see her piercing herself. “I thought...what's with the robots? It's only supposed to be Alto's influence stretched out...”

The teal colored vapor circled around the robot's carcass weakly, Tune collapsing onto the floor in an attempt to cup it in her hands. A tiny voice was heard from its light, a song echoing into the wind faintly, as if it was slowly dying in Tune’s trembling hands.

“No! P-please don’t go!” the girl pleaded. “I just need more time! Please just give me more time to fix things!”

Despite her wishes, the materialized voice was fading, and fast. Tune cried out in horror, trying anything in her power to keep the tiny voice to herself, protecting it like a tortured mother. “I’m begging you! l can't fail you too!”

The hedgehog duo could only watch as the magical vapor slowly but surely drifted away into the atmosphere, and the world around them became morbidly quiet. Whatever had just happened, it wasn’t good, emphasized by Tune’s wailing exclamation, reaching into the air for nothing.

“Tune?” Amy worriedly stepped forward, reaching out her hand, but before she could she was stopped by Tune’s strikingly widened glare, her eyes still glowing that dangerous purple aura.

“Get away from me.” she spat, her body shuddering in her hysteria. “Do yourself a favor and leave me out of…whatever this is.”

“W-what?” Amy said exasperated. “But we could really use your help! Restoration HQ still has areas that need clearing out of Eggman’s robots. People need us to get them out–”

“Y’all should be thinking of a way to get yourselves out of here, not wasting your time helping people perfectly capable of handling themselves! Your friends already got most of the people evacuated anyway.” Tune gestured to the twitching robots on the ground with a sneer. “What, you think more of those things ain’t coming? They’re based on Melodist tech. There has to be at least hundreds, maybe even thousands of them wrecking havoc all over the place! That crazy doctor must’ve had a hand on this. He's obviously working with Alto to sabotage everything. They’ll destroy your ears before you even have the chance to look the other way.” The hedgehog duo tilted their heads in confusion.

“Wait, ‘Melodist’ tech? 'Alto'?” Amy chirped. “What are you talking about?”

“T-that’s–” Tune’s heart stopped in her chest, her big mouth opening against her better judgment. “...Not important. Look, just get the rest of your posse and get out of here, unless you want to end up like her.” She pointed towards the now still, lifeless carcass of the robot in front of her. “This place is done for. So much for that security you promised. ” Her last words seeped out like venom.

“Tune wait, we’re not leaving you like this after all that!” Amy pleaded, reaching out her hand.

“...Goodbye, Amy.” Tune muttered out, activating her skates and readying herself to take off. Her view of the exit was suddenly blocked off by Sonic’s body, who had been silently watching the whole conversation take place, taking the initiative to speed in front of her with his hands stretched out. He glared at her with those same knowing eyes she couldn’t stand to face. It was disapproving, he was staring right through her once again, almost as if to say “I thought you were better than this”. It was well deserved, and Tune soon found that pit in her stomach growing once more. Turning her head, she quietly uttered a tiny sound. “I promise to fix this…but I need to do it alone. I’m not allowing you to get involved in my mistakes anymore than you already are.”

Tune pushed Sonic aside roughly, causing him to stumble back a little. But before she could even take a step to skate off, there was a blue blur. Tune was tackled from the side right as she went to take her leave, familiar metal claws grabbed at her shoulders and sent her speeding off into the air with a scream, causing her to drop the blaster and her glasses falling off her head.

“W-what the hell?!” Tune cried out angrily, frantic eyes darting. “Get off me, you creep!”

Amy gasped as she pointed towards the two flying figures. “Sonic, that’s…!”

They recognized it immediately: Metal Sonic, exiting the gaping hole in the window and heading outside, Tune frantically thrashing against him, kicking and screaming the whole way. Eggman had to be there. They needed to catch up fast. With a shared nod of understanding, Sonic once more grabbed Amy and sped off, his pace allowing him to effortlessly climb the window and jump out of the hole, just in time to see Metal Sonic slam Tune down onto the ground mercilessly.

From across the battlefield, Silver and the Diamond Cutters were locked and loaded in the fray against Eggman himself, in a gigantic towering battle mech. They had no time to react to Tune’s predicament, Silver launching Tangle, who in turn held a wispon welding Whisper wrapped around her stretchy tail, right atop the mech’s arm. Whisper went in for a disarming blow, utilizing her purple wisp in an attempt to saw off the forearm. Tangle whipped around the body, going straight for Eggman’s cockpit. Silver threw her a large rock, Tangle grabbing it by the tail before immediately smashing it into the glass.

“You pesky rodents just don’t know when to call it quits!” Eggman growled, his voice projected through an audio receiver on his mech. “My beautiful creations are too good for you; Now, get off my mech!” With a push of a button and a crank of a lever, the mech’s body started wildly spinning in place, Tangle and Whisper trying desperately to hold on, but ultimately were flung off, Silver just managing to grab a hold of the two and gently settling them down on the ground once more.

“Eggman, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Tune glared at the man piloting the mech, snarling. “I should have taken you down when I had the chance back in Melodia-!” Metal Sonic only tightened his grip as if in response to her threat, making her groan out in pain.

Eggman’s cackle echoed into the atmosphere, wicked and cocky. “My dear, you seem to have strayed a bit too far from home and caused quite the stir. Tell me, what was your plan here? To rid the entire world of voice in a pathetic attempt to spare people from Alto? How absolutely absurd. But no matter. So as long as you behave yourself, your pathetic life will be spared. After all, you have the highest honor of letting your voice be used for something greater than yourself, and I'd hate for you to miss it.” He grabbed onto his mic, calling out to his favorite creation from beyond. “Metal Sonic, get the Harmonic Distortion collar on the girl and get back to base. As much as I’d love to toy with these fools, we’ve no need to stick around.”

Everyone’s blood went cold, turning to face the chaos ensuing beyond. It felt like every bone on Tune’s body was breaking, her frame completely surrounded by larger badniks, tall and looming. Her hands interlaced with Metal Sonic’s harshly, her body struggling to hold on, Sonic and Amy fast approaching trying to burst through and help, Amy calling out her name in desperation as she and Sonic fought the onslaught of robots, Silver and the Diamond Cutters hot on their tails, rushing to their defense.

“ORDERS ACKNOWLEDGED: SUBJECT ‘FORMER MELODIST MAESTRO’ IDENTIFIED.” Metal Sonic’s low, threatening voice rumbled. “INITIATING VOCAL SUPPRESSION PROTOCOL.”

Tune was losing consciousness and fast. She whimpered against Metal Sonic’s restraint, mentally forcing her arms to try and fight against his overwhelming strength. She could see the chaos ensuing around her from the corner of her eye, how everyone was desperately struggling to reach her, how Sonic and Silver raced against the clock, trashing every single robot in their wake just to attempt to get Metal Sonic off her, but were constantly being swarmed by more and more badniks. Silver would use his power to sweep them away, but more would just come, seemingly out of thin air. This was getting nowhere, they were losing. They were losing hard. She had no choice.

I need a way out, she thought to herself. I need this to end. For them.

Breathing in as deep as she could, she tried to attack, focusing all her energy into another sonar wave, much more powerful than her usual ones. Everyone’s eyes widened in shock as a faint glowing aura formed around her body, her eyes glowing in similar fashion. Her hair raised to the sky and a choir screamed out from Tune’s vocal chords, a lower register male voice added to the mix echoing a guttural, angered sound.

But even with all the voices combined, it wasn’t enough. Metal Sonic was fast, too fast for Tune to even manage to yell out for more than a millisecond, engaging Tune with a violent sucker punch to her cheek, her head shooting to the side with a yelp from the impact. She swore she could see one of her sharp canines being involuntarily spit out through her already blurry vision. Even despite everything, she struggled to try again, determined.

Another punch, more ferocious than the last, Tune saw stars. But she kept going, her aura quickly weakening, eyes glazed over.

Her aura melted away, Tune’s voice thoroughly silenced with another punch, this time directly onto her skull. The world was spinning. Metal Sonic’s chest cavity opened revealing a wired storage compartment with a thin collar embedded with a strange looking speaker, forcing it upon Tune’s neck, electricity zapping every nerve and muscle in her body. Her entire being was on fire, her muscles violently shook and contorted. Her eyes and mouth glowed sickly yellow as hundreds of lights aggressively materialized and scattered out, like she was vomiting a morbid rainbow of sound, screams heard throughout every corner.

Finally, when the mesh of colors floated into the air, a single, solitary yellow aura slithered softly from Tune’s body. She desperately tried to reach for it aimlessly, her eyes widened in agony and fear. To her horror, it was placed directly into Metal Sonic’s chest cavity, morphing as a small, pulsing energy ball, a familiar melody singing in its hue, caged into a small capsule. The world was slowly going black.

“N-no…Al…to….” Tune gave one last gurgle before her body finally gave out on her abruptly, rendering her completely unconscious in the middle of the field.

As the auras of screams scattered into the wind, a blue aura shot directly beyond the crowd of robots and straight to Sonic at inhuman speed, his body contorting as it entered his being. He grabbed at his throat instinctively, and for the first time in months, he could hear himself breath, gasping for air and falling to the ground, Amy barely managing to keep him from completely collapsing.

“Sonic!” Amy yelped, setting her hammer aside to grab onto his shoulders.

“Amy…” Sonic finally managed to get the words out raspily, hearing his own tone felt foreign to him.

“TARGET NEUTRALIZED.”

Eggman once more laughed maniacally, watching as Metal Sonic grabbed Tune’s limp body from the ground by her newly attached collar, throwing her to the side like if she was nothing more than garbage ready to be disposed of.

“Great work,” Eggman toothy grinned. “Let’s see this pesky little Melodist try to gather more voices now that Metal Sonic has claimed her power. The Dominion Hymn will be mine once I find the key to making Alto submit to me entirely. I'll come back for the rest of those voices soon enough. Now, all units: get back to the ship!”

Eggman began to take his exit, taking one last conniving look at Tune’s body, grinning devilishly. “Congratulations, my dear. You've just granted me the key to control much more than just Melodia.”

And with that, just as soon as they arrived, Eggman’s robots scattered, any who were being attacked would quickly evade and march onward. Soon enough, they would all clamor to Eggman’s humongous battleship above, ascending from multiple floating platforms awaiting their arrival. Eggman followed suit, and even when the Restoration members all tried their very best to knock him back down, it didn’t matter. He escaped confidently, his mocking laughter echoing in their faces, stretching across the atmosphere, a product of their failure…

It was eerily somber, a light wind all that sounded off as the battleship flew away. The fires had been dealt with, the citizen’s properly looked after, but the damage to Restoration HQ was massive. It would take several months for them to fix the ramifications of Eggman’s swift invasion. No one had any excuses, no explanation.

But Sonic? He could only stare back at Tune’s softly breathing frame as medics would arrive on the scene to drag her tarnished and unconscious body away to the nearest medical station. The world stood still around him, even as reinforcements and medic squads came to access the damage. He could only take in Eggman’s words. It was all that etched into his brain:

“Let’s see this pesky little Melodist try to gather more voices now.”

That’s what he said. But it couldn’t be…It just couldn’t. But his fragmented memories, the ones laid at his feet for months since his voice was taken, flickered in his brain, painfully playing out like racing film. The fight in Casinopolis, the electrifying kiss, 'Rhythm’s' mournful expression as she bowed to him as if he was her only audience member, and most importantly…that haunting, choir-like voice, echoing inside the dark walls of the venue; the same voice from Sonic’s nightmarish visions, the same one heard coming from her mouth. It all came back to him. Her attempt to stop Metal Sonic’s assault proved everything. He could no longer deny it.

Tune was the Siren they’d been searching for. She’d been hiding right under their noses the whole time just waiting for her opportunity to strike. And Sonic had unknowingly welcomed her into their lives with open arms.

When Tune was safely placed on the emergency stretcher, Sonic turned to the rest of his friends with a dazed shake of his head, trotting in their direction. His heart skipped a whole few beats when he noticed Silver’s contemplative, dark expression staring daggers at Tune being dragged away. It was almost like he was debating charging towards her and doing something Sonic knew he’d be more than capable of. He’d seen that look before, he had been on the other end of that look before in the past. And he knew exactly what it meant.

So with a swift movement, before Silver could even take that first step, Sonic grabbed onto his shoulder, squeezing it tight. Silver couldn’t help but glare at him, his tunnel vision shifting only slightly by the blue hedgehog.

“She’s the one who did it: She’s the Siren.” Silver all but growled. “She’s been stealing people’s voices away like they were tools.” His frustrated voice was getting louder with every passing sentence. “She’s been using us this whole time and we never questioned it for a second! She could have been plotting this whole time to steal the entire Restoration’s voices and we would have submitted to it immediately without ever even realizing it!”

“Calm down, Silver.” Amy’s voice chirped from behind. “We can’t just start assuming things we don’t know the full details of.”

“Amy’s right,” Tangle’s voice broke through. “I mean, she could have done it when she first arrived, but she didn’t. That’s gotta count for something, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t trust that she won’t try to, now that she’s been fully outed.” Whisper softly refuted. “We don’t know the full scope of her power. We don’t know her motive. But she’s a threat nonetheless. She needs to be put down.”

“We can’t do that to her!” Amy frustratedly argued. “If nothing else, we need to know the why before we can come up with a plan going forward.”

“Does it even matter at this point?!” Silver angrily retorted. “She stole the voices of countless other people who could potentially be suffering through the same thing, and she’s been lying to our faces about it the whole time. How can you defend that?!”

“I’m not,” Amy calmly stated, her palm raised to try and put an end to Silver’s line of thinking. “What I’m saying is that if we want to have any chance of fixing it, we need to get her to talk. And she can’t do that if she’s being beaten to a pulp while she’s still down.”

Silver went to argue once more, but Sonic’s firm grip brought him back to reality, his eyes darting towards his partner, who’s stern yet determined look made Silver stop in his tracks. Releasing Silver’s shoulders, Sonic spoke up:

“Silver...” He raspily said, noticing how Silver’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice. Silver latched onto Sonic’s cheeks, emotions layered in every corner of the psychic's expression.

“Y-you’re…” he trailed off.

“I’m here.” Sonic grinned, if only to try and ease the overwhelming tension. “I’m back.”

Silver grabbed onto Sonic like a lifeline, tightly embracing him as if he’d never see him again for as long as he lived.

When Tune was physically capable, when she would finally wake, they’d have much to discuss.

CHAPTER 13:

Silver was stationed firmly outside Tune’s room in the infirmary. He was never allowed in, and was told countless times by multiple staff members and friends alike to give it a rest. But he refused. For days while Tune recovered, still unconscious, he sat there just outside her door for hours at a time, only leaving when he needed to help out rebuilding and to check on his miraculously undamaged garden.

He was awaiting her return. For anything. He was unbelievably angry, conflicted. He felt mournful and betrayed all at the same time. His mind went back to all the times he’d put himself out for Tune, how he’d chosen to make friends with the same person who’d stolen his beloved’s identity away. How she fought tooth and nail to retain that identity, only to be forcefully restrained and revoked of that privilege.

Whatever Tune was plotting, Silver wanted to be the first to know. For all the fighting, the attempts to make her as comfortable as possible around the members of the Restoration, his overwhelming patience to watch her float around the bushes whenever they’d attempt to get her to talk about anything regarding herself that didn’t involve the bare minimum factoids, Silver wouldn’t allow her to escape from this. Because at this moment, the consequences of what she did now became a matter of personal vendetta. His future was once again at stake for the first time in years, and she was solely the one to blame. He’d get to the bottom of it, he’d enact justice for the people she’d taken the liberties from.

And if she refuted at any point, he was ready to do whatever it took to get her to confess.

Despite his anger, Silver couldn’t help going back to the night on top of the greenhouse. Her foul attitude since that day had mended slightly, but her demeanor and insight about herself still lingered on in his brain:

“Don’t you think you should give this to someone who’d actually deserve it?”

“I don’t deserve y'all's kindness.”

“Y’all need to learn to put that energy towards people who need it more. People who deserve it.”

But the last conversation Silver would have with her, the day Sonic and him joined her on the sands on their trip to the beach, right before she planned to leave for New Mobotropolis, watching the waves go by and the world drift away, stuck to his angry, breaking heart.

“I can’t promise to spill my secrets right away. Frankly, I’m still of the mindset that y’all would hate me forever once I did. But I want to get better. It’ll be slow, but I’m willing to put in the work.”

And the daunting question still floating in the air, an unconscious plea for help.

“Can you guys be patient with me a little longer while I work my way towards that?”

Without Silver knowing, Tune had basically laid out the facts of her apparent turmoil with each conversation they’d have. And she had warned them directly: they’d hate her if she spoke about her past. He was reluctant to admit it, but there was a lot of truth to that statement. If not hatred, resentment felt more appropriate. Resentment and frustration for her selfish actions, even if she couldn’t have known how this would have affected him personally.

When the door to Tune’s medical room opened up for the third time that day, after about a week of empty updates on her condition, a nurse in a white lab coat was the first to acknowledge his presence.

“She’s awake.”

Silver suddenly felt his blood go cold. Would he have the heart to do it alone? To step inside and confront her dead on? Should he?

…He gave a small nod to the nurse, pulled out his phone, and gave a quick text to Sonic. It was quick, direct and to the point.

“Come down to the ward.”

It didn’t take long for Sonic to get the message, decidedly leaving Silver on ‘read’ before dashing towards the medical ward. When he got there, it was dim, the atmosphere stifling. The looming energy that Silver was exuding was so out of place for him, it was dreadfully painful watching him contemplate everything right then and there. Sonic joined him by the front door, taking his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. The nurse awaiting the speedster, opened her mouth to speak.

“Before you go in, there’s something you should know.” she began. The two hedgehogs looked at the nurse as she spoke, listening intently. “She’s stable, but she’s…she lacks focus. And whatever that collar that Metal Sonic put on her won’t come off no matter how hard we’ve tried. He took a direct assault towards her brain, and, well, due to the impacts and slight fractures she suffered through, she seems unwilling to speak a word since she’s woken up.”

Of course. It could never be that easy.

“Due to how fragile the situation is, it’s best not to stress her out too much.” the nurse continued, clasping her fingers together. “I know this is hard for the both of you, but if I can ask, please: Try to remain as calm as you can while you speak to her.”

Despite the nurse's insistence, the duo pressed on. With another firm squeeze of each other's hand and a nod to the nurse, from both of them this time, Sonic and Silver pushed the door open and entered the room.

There, lying in a hospital bed with a full tray of food she was aimlessly pushing around, was the Siren. The two walked up to her quietly, Silver’s stoney expression hardened on his face. They both took the double seat farthest from her bed, unable (or rather, unwilling) to really get much closer. She barely acknowledged them, choosing to stare blankly at her tray. Frustrated, Silver used his power to steal away her spork and tray, placing it atop a nearby table next to the window. When she still didn’t bother raising her head, hands loosely placed atop her lap, he forced her to face them head on, using his power to gently lift it up. Her eyes still barely looked at the two, glazed over and undetermined. Her posture was limp, lifeless.

In essence, her very soul had given up. It was like she was barely hanging on, existing only because her body demanded it. But she herself was absent.

“I’ll get right to the point:” Sonic was the first to speak. “Why’d you do it?”

The Siren stood quiet, unbothered by his interrogation.

“It doesn’t help you any if you keep quiet.” Sonic continued, annoyed. “I think you at least owe us an explanation as to why I had to go months on end with my voice in your throat.”

Still nothing. It was like nothing was registering, or rather she chose to ignore it. Unrelenting, Sonic pressed on, trying a slightly different approach. “You’ve got nowhere else to go, y’know. The entire Restoration’s got your face down. Even if you try to run, we’ll catch you. So why not just fess up now? It’s not like you’ve got anything else to lose.”

Silver glared at the Siren’s glazed over expression, he felt his quills standing up with every passing second.

“You know, just for the sake of it, I decided it best to check on my timeline using a pair of Chaos Emeralds we have hidden away at headquarters. And do you know what I found?” Silver spat out harshly. “A freaking ghost town. People are aimlessly wandering around, and those freaky robots are marching the streets.”

His hands balled into fists, trying to keep calm like the nurse told him, but his emotions were quickly getting the better of him. Surprisingly, his words seemed to have struck…something in the Siren’s core. Her ears twitched at his words, eyelids raising if only ever so slightly.

“You ruined it,” he could barely stop himself. “Because of you, I have to start back from square one. I’m back where I started, like if all the hard work I put into protecting my timeline didn’t matter in the end. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

He saw the Siren gulp involuntarily, her expression softening and eyes glistening slightly as she watched Sonic place a hand on Silver’s back, rubbing circles, but choosing not to take his eyes off of her.

“Why won’t you answer me, damnit?!” Silver yelled out desperately, his eyes shooting out small tears he couldn’t feel himself cry out, a bit of saliva spitting out from his mouth. “Why can’t you just talk to us?!”

The walls of the room reverberated and echoed back at him tauntingly and empty, the Siren wincing slightly. A moment passed as the three locked eyes with each other silently. And then, after an agonizingly long beat, the Siren finally moved without a sound, raising a fist to her chest and circling it around. Sonic and Silver recognized it immediately.

“I’m sorry.” she signed, breathing harshly yet mutedly as she lowered her head once more. She repeatedly circled her fist over and over again as she sobbed, tears falling into her blanket soundlessly. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” The duo sat dumbfounded. There was no way…

“You…can’t be serious.” Sonic muttered out, words escaping him.

The Siren just kept signing over and over, before grasping at her disheveled hair, the green she once wore was now faded almost entirely, revealing its natural black color. Her body mutedly heaved, shuddering as she continued to cry. She was like a child, rocking back and forth as she tried desperately to soothe herself and regain composure, to no avail. She tried signing as much as she could, her hands clumsily voicing what she could not speak.

“I didn’t wanted to hurt you.” she shivered, her errors in sign quite noticeable and movements expressly inexperienced. “I wanted my go home. I wanted to go my home. But my home is wrong. I can’t go home.”

The two hedgehogs didn’t know what to make of it. They had never seen this side of her before. Once she was a confident and brash loudmouth, now a mute, sobbing shell of her former self. It was like she was a completely different person. And it for some reason ached at the two deeply, watching her grovel atop her lone hospital bed, without any outlet but her hands to vocalize her pain, which were now once again occupied, grasping at her head.

Despite every part of himself telling him not to, Silver stood up and took a seat across from the girl. Despite his frustrations and every single part of him telling him it was wrong, there was still some tinge of sympathy watching the Siren pathetically mourn. He couldn’t understand it, but he felt deeply inclined, reaching his arms out to pluck the Siren’s clawed hands from out of her hair and onto his waist, placing both hands on her shoulders. She tried to resist his help instinctively, but he refused to let her. Once she understood, she aimlessly grasped at Silver’s body as she wailed uncontrollably. She kept mouthing out her apologies, despite no one able to hear. Sonic followed shortly afterward, taking a seat right next to the girl opposite of Silver and placing a hand on her back. He was unsure what to do for the first time, watching as her body heaved into his partner's stomach. He took a glance at Silver, who in turn worriedly stared back at him, his mouth thinning into a line. The two were on the same page: they were genuinely at a loss.

It took a while for the girl to recover. But once she was calmed somewhat, she released herself from Silver’s gentle grasp, Sonic removing his hand and resting it behind him, watching as the girl quietly signed off as best as she could.

“My home is in–dangered.” she hesitantly spelled out. “A-l-t-o took it from me. I do voice stealing because it…makes me strong. Makes me strong to chase away A-l-t-o.”

“How does it make you strong?” Sonic asked.

“My voice…” The Siren, unsure of how to sign it, tapped the two hedgehog's chest with dual pointed fingers and gestured openly with her arms, clawing her hands like she was grasping at something on them before pretending to eat something massive. She gulped down, and then stretched an arm out into the distance, the other hand going for her chest like she was an opera singer. Then, she flexed her arms like she was proving something.

“I don’t get it…” Sonic scratched the inside of his ear. “You eat them or something?”

The Siren groaned out mutedly. She scanned the area for something to write on, eyes focused on a lone notepad and a small pen left behind by the nurse. She gestured to it, Silver using a single finger to bring it to her with his power. She scribbled quickly.

“THE MORE VOICES I STEAL, THE MORE POWERFUL MINE BECOMES. IT’S LIKE THEY BECOME PART OF ME. MY INCANTATIONS ARE STRONGER THAT WAY. THEY REACH FURTHER.”

“But that still doesn’t explain the why, Tune.” Silver spoke up. “Why are you doing this? What’s your end goal here?”

She hesitated at first, unsure of how to explain. Silver tried again, desperate for anything she could muster.

"Please, just let us help you. Talk to us, Tune."

There was no turning back. She was already in deep trouble, and it was pointless to try and lie anymore. The words she wrote next were simple and direct, full of the most honesty she forced herself to muster that day.

“I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU.”

‘Protect’? What did that mean? She continued swiftly.

“ALTO CAN STRETCH HIS VOICE TO OTHER PEOPLE AND CONTROL THEIR MINDS. HE LITERALLY FORCES HIMSELF ONTO YOU WITH HIS VOICE. BUT HE CAN’T DO IT TO PEOPLE WHO ARE WITHOUT A VOICE TO MANIPULATE.”

“So you steal other people’s voices so that Alto can’t get to them first?” Sonic asked, grasping at his throat instinctively. “So that day in Casinopolis…”

“I STOLE YOUR VOICE IN AN ATTEMPT TO MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T FALL VICTIM TO HIS SPELL." The Siren scrawled out. "I WANTED TO DO IT FOR EVERYONE AT THAT VENUE. EVEN IF YOU CAN’T SPEAK, YOU CAN STILL LIVE YOUR LIVES. YOU STILL HAVE OTHER WAYS TO COMMUNICATE. BUT ALTO STRIPS THAT FREE WILL THE MOMENT HE GETS HIS HANDS ON YOU. I HAD TO MAKE THE HARD DECISION. EVEN IF IT MEANT BECOMING THE ENEMY, I CHOSE TO PROTECT.”

“But why not just say something, Tune?” Silver frustratedly reprimanded. “We could have helped you. We would have understood—” A harsh slap on his thigh with her two fingers was all he needed to shut up. She quickly flipped to the next page, already taken nearly half the notepad up in her writing and continued, her annoyance at Silver's comment proved by how her handwriting worsened.

“DO YOU HONESTLY THINK PEOPLE WOULD BE OKAY WITH ME JUST STEALING THEIR VOICE AWAY IF I JUST UP AND ASKED? EVEN IF I HAD THE TIME AND OPPORTUNITY TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK THEY’D BELIEVE ME? BE SO FOR REAL RIGHT NOW.”

“I hate to admit it, but she has a point, Silv.” Sonic sighed.

YADA YADA PLOT DETAILS WRITING IS HARD I LIKE CAMP BETTER OKAY THAT'S THE END YEYYYYY

#maple talking shit #sonic the hedgehog #maple's writing adventures #maple scraps #i'm wholeheartedly not expecting anyone to read this so i am once again imploring ppl to mute that tag bc no i will not stop #i still have a few more i wanna share but one is more lighthearted and the other is a little heavy on the cw #i'll def make sure to label them accordingly but still #had to kinda stop w this bc tune was becoming too broody and i wanted her to end her arc w her being a comedic shithead #which to be fair #the brooding was the initial intent bc she has really bad insecurities and a savior complex #but like it was getting a bit excessive at times LMAO #also i think if i ever write for silver in a more serious context #i really do have to take a step back and make sure he's not how he's written here #something about it just kinda feels off #i did something good in a previous chapter and then i kinda got carried away as i continued #it's a good learning experience but one i wish didn't have to come at the expense of my fav being a bit too ooc for my tastes LMAO #we are learning tho!!! hopefully the campy one i'm working on turns out better #even though silver is completely absent from tune's perspective for a majority of it gdfgjkdflk #sonic oc

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rivangel · 2 years ago

Text

First Times Anthology, ch.7: all of me

work summary » Intimate, vulnerable, gentle. Concepts Levi is a stranger to, until you.

ch.summary: Just when you think you know everything about each other, Levi has a way of surprising you after a close call. In wake of the worsening odds against the Titans, you "punish" him for taking an unnecessary risk.

content/warnings: ACKERBOND, hurt/comfort, LEVI RAGE MODE, canon-typical violence, minor injuries, softcore porn tbh, nervous breakdown/some descriptions of dissociation&reactions to post-trauma events, oh my god is that a reference to canon??, heart-to-heart talks, oral (f!receiving), creampie (f!receiving), Levi is always so careful idc, praise, resolved misunderstandings

wc: ~9.7k

a/n: i call this the 'learning to unconditionally love every facet of each other' chapter in addition to the more general name of the fic, 'levi therapy hour'. alternatively, the 'oh my god, is that a reference to canon??😱' chapter.

it's autumn year 849.

originally this chappy was gonna be split in 2 parts, but since every other chap is centered in one period of time b/n longer stretches (because it's an anthology, duh), i decided the last one is too separate to call it pt2.

BUT this is the real bonafide guaranteed second-to-last chapter. i mean it this time lol. that one is v close to being finished (i am stubborn and refuse to finish the closing paragraphs w/out finishing the one last singular scene, which.. is smut) and im thinking mid june or so!

ps: for all intents and purposes of getting railed by levi, pregnancy doesnt exist. pps, fingernails grow back. youll understand later, i just worry abt misunderstanding.

previous part・work masterpost・last part

Listened to while writing:

Your first time is that following autumn, in all its golden-browns, dashes of fiery red, and silver skies. The summer season had finally burnt itself out, and it was time to breathe a sigh of relief for another season you both left still fighting.

Levi returned in the early evening from a days-long trip to Mitras on official business between him and the Commander. With paperwork out of the way, you had made a warm, filling dinner (with real butter, too, though meat was too expensive)—for no other reason than you had missed him, and you knew how irritating he finds those trips.

Afterwards, in bed, he stirred against you and leaned over to kiss. You kissed him harder. It was certainly no surprise when he crawled between your bare thighs, hands stroking up and down your freshly-shaved legs—nor when he pulled away and asked, “Did you change your mind while I was gone?”

You knocked away the covers, as it’d quickly grown too muggy, and shook your head, heart suddenly pounding.

Before he left days before, you had asked his thoughts on going further than you ever had in the past, on him being inside you. His eyes had grown a touch wide, but he had nodded, and since he had been gone, the anticipation took over your mind.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous.

“You think you need more?” he asks now, earnest, but his voice is muffled against your slit, lapping, then suckling over your puffy clit. He licks in maddeningly hot, lazy circles.

You shudder with a light cry, hands in his hair combing it backwards. His heavy tongue has you clenching down around his three fingers that slowly fuck into you.

“No.” At least, you don’t think so—he’s been so thorough, and so fucking careful—but the bunches of butterflies fluttering in your chest want to say otherwise.

You stammer, “T-Two times not enough for you?”

“Believe me…” He sits up on his haunches, three fingers curling inside you, his other hand idly pumping his red, swollen cock. “It is.”

You make a blind grab for the sheets and rock your hips to meet him. “Then hurry.”

He licks his swollen lips and gently withdraws his fingers. While clambering on top of you, he nonchalantly licks your sweet cum from them, though his nerves beat like a racehorse in his chest.

Your hand replaces his around his reddened shaft, the slide so easy from how much he’s leaked all over himself. More than before, you take in his size and realize how thick he is.

“Levi,” you whisper.

He rocks into your loose hand, and sighs in bliss. “Yeah.”

“C’mere,” you plead, but before you can finish your buttery lips are already moving together.

“But you—” kiss, “—stop me—” kiss, ”—for any reason.”

You admire the sheen of sweat on his hairline, the heat on his cheeks, the slope of his jaw, and almost forget to reply. “You say that every time, and guess what happens every time?”

“This is different.”

“Nu-uh. Same, ‘cause it’s you.”

With a huff, he hoists your knees a touch higher around his slender hips and lines his cock up level with your mound—to see how deep he’ll go. You shiver.

He cradles your hip as he feels you draw tense. “I assure you it is.”

Your teeth hook into your bottom lip. You're so damn nervous, it’s easier to think so. Levi will take care of you, though. That’s guaranteed.

“I’m nervous,” you surrender. “But it’s probably not much different, right?”

He shakes his head into the shade of your neck; even without knowing what it’s like with a woman, he's confident you’re wrong.

In return, you throw one leg over his back, digging your heel in.

“Hey,” he gasps, “you can’t just—”

You drag him that much closer, caging him in with both arms and thighs. Between your spread legs his hips involuntarily twitch towards, then grind down against your sticky wet slit. He nudges your clit with the head, just to see how you’ll react, and your hips bow up against his, whining miserably.

To reassure him, you massage his lips with yours. You don’t want to feel anxiety crushing you while you ache and clench for him around absolutely nothing. You need him. You need him.

“C’mere,” you beg again, and he lines himself up. Something hot, round and hard catches on your rim, and then pushes inside.

Levi’s desire pounds between his thighs and thunders in his ears. The drag is hot, soaking wet, and hugs his cock so tight that his jaw falls completely slack.

He’s certainly never felt this before.

For a moment his mind is utterly blank, reeling, and you cling onto him so tight.

“Fuck,” you croak by his ear. He’s only halfway. “It’s so big.”

He says nothing—if he opens his mouth a string of noises will tumble out; showing how good he feels when you’re not there yet doesn’t feel right—and cradles you between both thick biceps, panting hard. It’s like your pussy is tightening to suck him deeper inside.

You shakily whine his name, seeking purchase by the strong planes of his back.

All you can think of is the uncanny feeling of your body stretching to take him. Levi isn’t big by most standards, but he makes up for it in thickness, and it’s plump even while flaccid.

It feels like he’s splitting you in half. Like all that preparation hardly made a dent in this blindly intense feeling. He was right.

“I know, it’ll feel better soon. Jus’ a little more, sweetheart.”

He watches your features carefully and bullies his hand between you to fall over your mound. In firm, easy circles he strokes you, kisses your temple, then the side of your parted lips. “That better?”

A sigh is punched from your lungs. “Yes.”

Pleasure licks up your spine when your hips finally kiss. He’s here. “Levi, Levi.”

He says your name in return, his breath fanning over your face. It’ll get better from here. His hand moves away from your clit upwards to cradle the back of your head.

You crack your eyes open, only to find his shut above you, jaw tight and features pinched in pleasure. His bangs dangle in his eyes, so you push them back, and his eyes flutter open.

Bright eyes the color of twilight blink back at you, his pupils like two round black pools. It doesn’t feel like much else needs to be said.

His calloused fingers hug the thick of your thigh, where you’re shaking slightly. “I’m gonna go slow at first. Relax—can you do that for me?”

His endless care is anything but lost on you, which helps you relax all by itself. You nod, physically going soft and lax in his arms.

A small gasp sounds against your lips to feel you throb gently around him. He will last, certainly, but never did he imagine it’d feel this good before even properly starting. It frazzles his mind as much as it seems to do yours.

“Baby,” you groan, scraping down his back. “Move.”

Experimentally, he grinds into all that heat. You whimper. Then he goes further, rolling his hips, and rocks in slow, shallow thrusts to the feeling of your own twitching up to meet him halfway.

Actually doing this, there was nothing—and is nothing—he feared more than hurting you at all. Pain should never be a given in this, like he falsely assumed in the past—which is why he burns brightly to take in the pinched bliss on your face now; even though he wants to lay you back and slam into you so bad.

“There you go,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your lips. “Good. That’s my girl.”

A soft moan falls off your lips. Pleasure apart from the feeling of Levi rocking into you, but just as intense, writhes in your chest. Your walls flutter hard around where he’s begun to properly fuck you, and then he catches your rim, and your hips abruptly buck up into him.

A louder groan rumbles by your ear. “Fuck, you’re so tight—”

“Please! F-Fuck me so good.”

Deeper, faster he buries himself inside you enough to hear his balls slap against your pelvis. If you want more, he will give it to you gladly. Hearing you beg for him, moan his name, winds him up hotter and hotter.

For once, his embarrassment evaporates—it doesn’t even register. It’s how sweet your voice and how good your cunt feels taking him so deeply, so readily.

All of it: all of him, all of you.

The bedframe whines, and he can’t remember when, but at some point your palm snakes over his forehead, tossing his bangs back so you can grab a good handful and coax him in for another breathtaking kiss. Immediately you take his bottom lip between his teeth, and his mouth parts obediently to let you in.

“Fuck,” he groans. You can’t even think to lick into his hot, sticky mouth and rather gape into his mouth, crying out when he slams into that perfect spot. “Right there?”

Your ankles lock around his lower back, moaning shamelessly right by his ear, which is enough of an answer. He squeezes your inner thigh, spreading you wide open, which changes the angle enough for him to slam into that perfect spot every time.

“Yes!” you gasp in approval, head falling back to expose your neck to him. Your chests heave together, and it suddenly and swiftly registers in your mind—he’s fucking you, taking you, on top of you, all around you. You feel yourself getting close.

He feels you too—that subtle lift in your back and the added sting of sweet pain from your tight hold on his dark hair. Where he grinds, his thrusts, splitting your pussy wide open, he feels you spasm and tighten.

“Look at me,” he begs quietly by your hairline. Heat rolls through him. Quieter, “Please.”

You pry your eyes open half-lidded, and you do—you look deeply into his soft, blazing eyes, inspiring your whole body to shudder. A hot blush paints his sharp features, tight from pleasure.

Just watching him somehow hurls you closer to the point of no return. His pink lips are perpetually parted for you, and once, his eyes flutter, a fragile moan escaping, and you grab for his hand. He locks them on the pillow beside your head in response.

Your tits bounce along with his quick thrusts. You try to tell him you’re close, but you can’t. Each sound ripped from you is punctuated by another wet slam of his hips.

A grunt is punched from his chest, so much so his sweaty forehead falls on yours and his rhythm skips. He’s about to come, too.

“Fuck—” He noses your cheek, panting, “—you hear yourself? Fucking gushing around me—”

“Yeah, yes.” You paw for his sturdy shoulders as heat like an electric bolt rolls over your whole body, drawing you up tight. His fat cock splits your sticky cunt now in a flurry of hard thrusts. You uncontrollably struggle to writhe when a hand bullies itself between your bodies, and the frantic attention he gives your clit shoves you into your climax, dashing your vision in bright white.

“Fuck!” He slams into your cunt, “Good fucking girl.”

You don’t have enough mind to hear yourself let go, but Levi does—the loud cry ripped from your throat, your babbled whimpers, and his name and his name and his name being moaned at the ceiling. You’re so fucking loud that if someone was walking past, the sound would be unmistakable.

You writhe so fucking hard in his arms that he has to hold you down to fucking you through the silky-soft spasming of your cunt. You go so nice and tight, practically milking him, and combined with the rest runs his blood white-hot.

His end hits him close behind yours. It slams into him hard and sudden, making his cock surge, making him gasp. His hips stutter and his balls give a deep throb, and then he falls into it just as you’re coming down from yours.

Shaking and shuddering, these little mewls fall off your lips as you get to watch his jaw fall slack and utter bliss take over his blushing face. You get to hear a loud, rasping moan above you and feel him fuck you to completion, then his hot cum shooting deep inside your pussy, making your toes curl. So much, and a little more.

And then, when all that’s left is for him to slow and the swift heavy sounds of both your breaths, you feel him throb softly as he starts to soften inside you. His face is shaded in your neck, and neither of you move at first. Your sweaty hands are still squeezed.

He makes a noise. Idly, he realizes the mess that’s begun to dribble out between where you’re both connected, and pulls out slowly, rubbing the tremors out of your thighs.

Softly, you whimper at the sudden sense of loss you feel, stroking his messy hair with tingling fingers. A completely whole sense of warmth drapes over you now, leaving you sleepy.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly from beside you. He feels it’s the right thing to do no matter what.

“Yes,” you whisper, and roll over towards him. You squirm to feel it—a creamy mix of his mess and yours caking your inner thighs. You’re a little sore, but completely fucking satisfied. Your limbs are heavier than steel.

He shakily shuffles out of bed, and you stay still, spreading your legs so he can clean you up with a lukewarm washcloth. After he seems satisfied with his own state, you lug yourself up into a sit and kiss him tenderly.

It’s slow, and it’s lazy, but it rattles you to the core.

Levi still occasionally gets overwhelmed after. He stutters to pull away first, looking spent in a strained way, doesn’t reach out to touch you. Only if you initiate—this time by stroking his sinewy arm does he relax slightly.

“Are you okay?” you ask him in return, and immediately he nods, eyes softly closed. You take his cheek towards you and kiss his forehead reverently, like you mean to bless him, before you decide to take a bath.

He, ironically, likes bubbles and soaps with the softest smells; mostly fresh daisies and sweet smells. After helping you into the blissfully hot water, causing you to sigh softly, he sinks in behind you.

Washing has to ask for less time. As he does your hair, you take a small handful of bubbles and plop them on top of his head.

He is thoroughly nonplussed by this. “You’re such a brat,” he tells you quietly, in that same tone he uses to compliment you.

You shift back around, rocking the water, and hum as a pair of strong arms close around your waist. “My legs are still shaking.”

And for that, Levi clearly doesn’t give himself enough credit.

With one wide palm he rubs the aches out, and busies the other with smoothing your hair back so no shampoo stings your eyes. It took quite a bit of practice for him to get both good and gentle at doing it; he used to wash Isabel’s hair, but that was a long time ago.

“Thanks,” you murmur. Bubbles wobble around when you shift to make room so he can stretch his legs.

In reply, he kisses the shell of your ear. It’s nice, but it can’t last forever, either. An expedition is coming up soon—the last of the summer season.

You’ll be breathing clean air while your comrades’ blood is spilled for two weeks straight.

And spilled it is.

You haven’t seen running water or a warm bed in almost two weeks since departing from Karanese District. Some days are better than others, even some mornings less dire than nights, but considering how little you can bring yourself to sleep out here, you catch yourself thinking of it as one eternal, bloodsoaked day often.

However, today was—to put it lightly—especially dire.

The night is humid. The sun stole away the worst of the heat a while ago, but the air is thick, leaving dew staining the grass. Your mind is muddy, abandoned on the battlefield, but the adrenaline never really dries up outside the Walls. You could spring into battle the very next moment if the situation called for it.

The tent flap collapses shut behind you. As soon as the strategy for tomorrow and the day after was charted, Levi pushed himself off the wall and fled.

You always give him space when he needs, and you had concerns for the Commander: mainly a couple of caches that were abandoned after Maria fell, and whose retrieval was the main objective of this expedition.

But after today, you’re breaking that rule.

Levi being Levi, no one questions what he does. It's like him to skip pleasantries, but he isn’t waiting for you outside the tent, nor at the makeshift canteen (a glowing bonfire) where watery stew and ration crackers are being handed out.

It’s easy to pinpoint when things went awry, which makes the fact that you don’t understand what exactly happened all the more frustrating.

ODM was nearly useless in those long stretches of plain green fields. What made the situation more precarious was the old riverbank in the area that—back before Maria fell—used to carry ferries back and forth between districts with a metal pulley system. Given its size, it’s impossible to cross, and the rushing water is a drowning risk if the underlying metal didn’t break your back first.

And that’s exactly where Titan numbers grew overwhelming today. At the time, Gunther and Petra were elsewhere in the formation to assist other squads, leaving you, Eld, and Levi to yourselves.

With every step, if you focus hard enough you can still feel giant footsteps rattle your bones. Shitty luck had it that you were swatted by an Abnormal close enough to the steep riverside to be hurled into the water like a stone into a pond.

When you were a girl, your father’s political standing with the royal government allowed you the privilege to take swimming lessons. They would have, for once, proven useful if your loose hadn’t tangled you in a steel web after you hit water.

One free arm and as little as you could kick your feet didn’t mean a thing as you were tossed from rapid to rapid. Weeds and algae had infested in the absence of the ships, making what sparse rocks there were too slippery to grab.

You’re sometimes pushed to believe that Levi is attached to you not by heart or feeling, but an invisible twine. Lack of air combined with the constant red flood of adrenaline dragged the nightmare out exponentially, but you were told later it was a minute, if that, before Levi did one of the most reckless things he’s done in a long time and dove in after you.

In his defense, Eld told Levi that he couldn’t swim, so Levi lied and said he could. Otherwise, you would’ve drowned. Eld covered your backs during that time.

You remember a force stronger than the rapids taking hold of you, you remember hacking out lungfuls of water, shouting, the shove and yank of the water, and the scrambling—for something, anything. Dirt, even now, stays clotted underneath every single one of your fingernails—except two, for you no longer have them.

The only thing he did that was more bad than good was hold onto you, causing the tangled wires to be pulled tight like a snake around its meal. It was you who managed a snag on a fat, bulbous root wider than your palm could wrap around, but he was the one who plunged his sword into the wall of muddy earth, snapped his blade in half like shattering glass, and cut you free as much as the chaos you were neck-deep in allowed.

He ordered you, hold still, and then dread, as thick as oil. You don’t remember how he lost his hold on you—it all happened so fast—but as if in slow motion you can easily recall pivoting downstream, your palms greased from the wet earth in order to save your savior.

Levi can’t swim.

But then the surface of the water broke in the center of it all. Your shoulder is still killing you from where he first seized, then hauled you back to the wall with one arm, the other pushing the water aside.

You hadn’t froze up in years in battle, not until today, because who was carrying you just wasn’t Levi—not with glowing, unseeing marble in place of his eyes, not saying a word, not with that look on his face.

The next thing you knew, air was punched from your lungs with the force you were thrust upwards. Dirt smeared your cheek in ugly clumps and you clawed for purchase—ripping out earth for all you care—14 kilos of equipment and all.

Despite the fear running through your blood, you were about to call out to him when earth squelched and his elbow hooked around yours. He was himself again, with the command to either shed your gear or move faster.

So, you leaped. Wildgrass, stringy and thick, was all you needed—besides him shoving you by the bottom of your boot—to swing yourself over the precipice like a climb out of hell.

He was still normal when you literally dropped your arm over the edge and helped him the rest of the way—eyes sharp and determined, but still normal. If he hadn’t been, you have the feeling now that he wouldn’t have even needed your help.

That was somehow scarier to imagine.

Eld, blood steaming off his face, rode by on horseback to escort you due to the wretched state of your bloody hands. Levi stayed behind to clean up the rest of the Abnormals.

There’s nothing anyone should, or even could discuss in the heat of battle, but you still waited for a second look, something, even though that was foolish.

At first, you managed to convince yourself it was the white-hot adrenaline, or the pain so sharp it made your working mind feel somehow outside your body that conjured up what you saw. But after emerging from sleep in one of the wagons for the injured, you refused to doubt.

Levi is strong, but no one is unstoppable.

This rift wasn’t because you were slow to react for those few moments, or even that you launched off the wall to save his life. In fact when the two of you next spoke—before charting strategies with Erwin and the rest, but after the sun sank into the earth—he didn’t seem to understand at all beyond what was only obvious to him.

He asked, “How bad is it?”, and all you could bring yourself to do was shake your head. It felt so hard just to look at him; you were afraid if you did, you would see that other person again.

You haven’t spoken since, but to be fair you needed to recoup, to gather your wits again like a bunch of loose feathers. For all the scrapes, cuts, and contusions, you put the most energy into processing that power that overtook him for those few precious seconds. You struggled.

But it’s time to do something.

You grip the belts of the ODM tethered around your waist so you don’t end up picking at your bandaged fingers. Nervous habit.

You can’t forgo what little reprieve from the fight you now have without discussing it, and it’s guaranteed Levi won’t be the one to instigate the conversation—not until his frustrations completely boil over. He’s always needed help communicating, and this is certainly no exception.

Near the barricade at the entrance to the village is where you find him, seated on a log before one of the smaller campfires. It’s not necessary: where buildings don’t cover, makeshift barriers stand, and green capes in full ODM stand posted around the perimeter, but Levi is nothing if not vigilant.

“Hey,” you say.

He grunts, not so much as twitching at your approach. The roles are reversed now: he can’t seem to look at you.

You both bathe in the heat from the fire in silence until you can’t take the quiet anymore. Hands on your hips, you watch the flames. “You saved me today.”

“You would’ve done the same.”

“That’s not the point,” you argue softly, making yourself heard over the crackling firewood. “You can’t swim.”

Dirt scuffs behind you. Once his warm palm lands on the nape of your neck, tears immediately spring to your eyes. You feel yourself pull towards him—something almost scarily inevitable, like gravity pulling rain to the earth.

You return the gesture and sway there gently in silence. Both of you smell like dead fish dipped in blood, leather squeaks, and your gear clunks together, but neither of you care.

“Your injuries?” he asks against your lips, a little blandly.

You sway a little. “I’ll live.”

In response, he bullies the fingers on his free hand under the belt tethered by your hip, and holds you there.

In terms of an apology, he won’t give you one: there is no risk from today that he wouldn’t take all over again, but in terms of an explanation, he can’t.

“I just… knew what I had to do,” he attempts to explain, only to watch the look on your face turn pensive.

He recalls the look on your filthy face, eyes blown wide in fear once back on solid ground. By the time he rejoined the formation and you woke up, it hadn’t gone away, not completely.

A fear of his own seizes him, so he pulls away. He can’t look at you. He fears that if he does, he will see it oozing from your expression again.

Very rarely does he see you truly afraid. You’ve almost met death multiple times. It’s him, it must be, because he can’t fucking swim and yet he saved both your lives despite every facet of the situation that should have made survival impossible.

In that moment, he felt, or was, unstoppable. He’s felt that way before, and you’ve seen him do the impossible before—he fails to understand what’s so different this time.

“What is it?”

He makes his voice carefully even, but you know him better. You take a steadying breath before launching into an explanation of your side of the story: what you saw, how you didn’t believe it at first, and how you felt—how the fine hairs on the back of your neck stood up when he grabbed you, how your blood froze and how astounding his sudden strength.

Now he’s sitting, arms crossed over his knees while you scuff the dirt with the toe of your boot. When you describe the way he looked, he asks, “What was wrong with them?” and you look away.

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

He frowns. “Spit it out.”

“It was like you weren’t even there. They—well, glowed.”

Silence. You attempt to make the one-sided conversation light. “It’d be impressive, if it wasn’t life-or-death, of course.”

“I don’t remember any of that,” he admits quietly, barely audible over even the crickets.

Shadows dance across his face as you ask what he means by that.

He shakes his head and repeats himself like a broken record. He never remembers those moments. It’s an experience only comparable to spectating your own falling body while it expertly kicks and flails in search of solid ground.

Maybe it isn’t that he knew what he had to do, but his body. It acts sometimes without his permission, but only to defy death when he himself cannot. At that point he’s instinct alone, an empty mind, a blank slate.

“Have you ever had moments like that?” he ventures to ask, not looking at you because he’s confident what you’ll say.

You give it some genuine thought, raking through your memories. “No, Lee. I haven’t.”

As he thought. He says nothing, but scooches to make room for you to sink down on the log beside him. You ask why.

“Forget I asked.” If you were scared of him then, or now as you described it, then there’s the possibility of tomorrow; it’s better the conversation ends here.

You drape your bandaged hand over his scraped knuckles. “It’s okay,” you say.

Levi measures the breaths he takes. There must already be alarms going off in your head, alerts that he’s upset, but you wouldn’t understand no matter what he said. He understands it very little himself.

“It really was impressive,” you go on, squeezing a little despite the pain. “And I wanna know what you think.”

“Were you scared?”

You look up, but his hollow eyes are on the fire. The way he’s turned only lets you see half of his face.

Feeling frayed, “Everyone’s scared to die, aren’t they?”

“Not dying.”

“...You mean—” your heart falls, “—of you?”

He says nothing. Frowning deeply, you carefully put your hand on his shoulder, giving him the freedom to shrug you off, which he does, albeit hesitantly.

“Levi—”

He stops you. “You’d have every right to, if you were. Or are. Don’t spare my feelings because you’re—you.”

“I wouldn’t,” you protest. It stings that he assumes you’d lie.

“I know.” His expression turns hollow. “I’m just saying I’d get it—if you were scared. I didn’t know all that until you said it. So, if you’re scared–”

You’re happy to hear him out until he starts to repeat himself.

“Levi, stop.” You shake your head, incredulous with him. “That’s ridiculous.”

He scoffs.

“I mean it. I’ve never actually been scared of you; except in the beginning, maybe.”

Who wasn’t? One time, a Scout remarked that Isabel was a ‘snot-nosed bitch’ within Levi’s earshot, and he marched right up to the guy and said nothing before kicking the absolute shit out of him. He was put on medical leave for weeks.

In no way does he look or sound amused, but at least he doesn’t rebuke you. You go on, remaining truthful: the situation itself was at the root of the terror you felt, not him. In that moment, yes, you were scared, but it never crossed your mind that he would hurt you.

“Would I be here if I was scared of you?”

He scans your expression for a hint of deception, but finds none. This conversation is new to you both, not because he went out of his way to hide it from you, but he always excused those blank moments away as heightened instincts.

He’s used to it, that power. He was as defenseless as any kid before it awakened in him. As for you, he can’t recall ever being in such close proximity when those instincts took over—not surprising, since it’s near-impossible to keep your eyes on each other when there’s a battlefield raging around you.

Again: “Why did you ask if I’ve ever had a moment like that before?”

Levi looks away, feeling his eyes ache when he closes them. “It’s kind of unbelievable.”

“Try.”

Your pinkie closes around his own, and he links them. “The man who raised me had those moments too.”

He opens his eyes. There are a plethora of reasons why Levi would rather not think of himself as related to Kenny in any way. He felt that way before he left him too, but the difference is that assuming he was explained away why he saved his life. Few things could explain why Kenny left.

So that conclusion is trembling, it’s cruel, and it’s shameful. It was enough that he had to come to the conclusion that Kenny left him that day because he couldn’t measure up to the strength he always spoke so highly of.

“...Can I ask a more personal question?”

“Try.”

“Did—your mom ever mention anything?”

For an endless stretch of time, he doesn’t reply. His knitted brow tells you he’s wracking his memory for something, anything; if not something about the power, then anything out of the ordinary.

“I was too young, so not really.”

You quirk a brow suggestively. Not really isn’t a Not at all.

“She told me once that we don’t have a last name because we’re good people,” he finally says, then pauses. “So, as I said, no. Not really.”

And you know even less. You decide to let this topic go. “How I feel about you is the furthest thing from scared,” you murmur.

He gives you a small, meaningful glance, then nudges your temple with his lips. “Thank you.”

You rest there in silence for some time, just like that. Crickets sing their songs and lightning bugs blink in the darkness. It’s still sinking in that you’ve both made it through another day. He doesn’t want to forget, so he can’t bring himself to admit he needs to be alone right now. Not yet.

“Will you sleep?”

He gives you a look, because you know the answer to that question. Still, you encourage that he get a few hours at least.

“Later.”

If he’s not mistaken, a majority of the force is sleeping in barns, so he’s in no hurry.

You kiss his temple, and leave him.

Levi makes himself at home in his head until his backside falls asleep and the flames die down in the heart of the logs.

He’ll never know the answers—hell, if only he knew the questions. Power—the power—was Kenny’s religion, if some idiot could ever think him a religious man. Kenny loved to talk, but he never bothered to tell Levi anything important those years he looked after him. He never even learned Kenny’s last name.

It doesn’t matter, he reasons, because no matter the reason he possesses the power, no matter where it came from or if it’ll ever leave him—it’s his to use.

It’s the perfect strength, the keenest of instincts, and it’s his.

One thing is terribly obvious to him now. The reason, then, that he’s so often left behind is because he’s not good enough, compared to the power. There’s in the end no one, and nothing else, deserving of more blame.

But today he was good enough, and for that he can forgive himself. Just for today.

The most notable thing about the charge back to Wall Rose is the incessant rain: the ground more resembles mush than earth, the rivers spill over into the soggy grass, and everyone is waterlogged in one way or another, most from head to toe.

As a result, it takes three days longer than it should to reach the gates: visibility is worse than terrible, the horses have a hard time moving in it, and the quickest route runs beside the main riverbanks. It isn’t an option.

It goes without saying that Levi is jumpier than usual. He’s snippy you decided not to ride with the injured, and with the rain on top of that, he might as well have a stormcloud over his head (and Oluo too, for how hard he tries to imitate him).

But he never complains. Scouting leaves no room for bitching about the rain when any one of your friends got swallowed before your eyes days before. He very much wears a stony mask on expeditions, where he’s no longer himself, but fierce in his role as Captain; you as his Lieutenant.

Still. Through the mist and the haze and the rain clinging to your bones, as the visage of Rose plastered to Trost’s gate broke through the fog, you just about tear up. For once, it isn’t the rain. Petra laughs out loud and Oluo admonishes her for it, but then he starts laughing too.

“And just when I thought we wouldn’t make it!”

Gunther whistled. “What a sight.”

“Not until we’re all inside,” you caution them, remembering yourself, and the glimmer of celebration dies down.

Levi tosses a look back at you and motions towards the head of the formation, where Erwin is sure to be. Inevitably, Hange and Mike are already parting their squads to join him, as is customary.

You’re not obligated to join him like the rest, you two sharing leadership of the squad, so you shake your head. You’re not thrilled for the crowd of disgruntled townsfolk to crowd you all, to hear—no matter how hard you try to tune them out—their gasps of dismay, for them to jeer at the blood spilled and say: “Those damned Scouts. It’s like they want to die,” and so on and so on and so on.

Levi nods. “Meet back.”

That is Levi-speak for, See you at our place as soon as you’re finished showering.

You wonder if you’ll have the energy. You could doze off on your trotting horse.

A nod. “Sir.”

You spot the second most notable thing, ironically, once you’ve trudged past the gates ahead of the rest of your squad. Your mind is a waking fog, the world mere background decor, but it’s difficult to miss kids at a funeral. It’s the Cadet Corps.

You toss a look over, and spot them in a row with no sign of Shadis, unsurprisingly. It’s customary for them to attend the return of the last expedition before graduation.

Very few, as usual, are doing anything but paying attention, but three watch on raptly enough to make up for the rest. It’s easy to tell which ones saw Maria fall.

The bold stare on one of them unnerves you. Running away from Titans isn’t the same as slaying them, and even then…

The split-second the blond one catches your eye, you turn your head forward, feeling nothing but dread.

The rest is a blur until that first spray of hot water pelts your head, but even now you might as well be a ghost. Water beating the floor bounces off your ears, the saddle once beneath you now only an echo of an ache on your thighs and backside. Distantly, your entire body stings, sorest of all your hands. Even where you stand, scrubbing mud and grime and clotted blood still clinging to your hair, you waver on your feet.

On the way back, Alina died. Eaten. It’s hard to believe she was on your squad so long ago when even yesterday feels like an eternity ago.

She was always clumsy, you muse, hating yourself. The last time you saw her personally was Mayfest last year. Who was she with? What did you talk about?

You search for meaning in the meaningless. It was as simple as scanning the composite list of casualties two days ago, and catching her name. A life, a memory, a name—blinked out of existence, just like that. There’s nothing you could’ve done.

“Those goddamn Scouts. It’s like they want to die.”

Abruptly, a sob bubbles up in your chest. It’s dry, silent weeping at first, but then tears. Then more, and more, and you’re blubbering in the shower, the ache on the inside intertwining with the physical. Your head pounds.

You don’t register it when the water begins to bleed cold. With your bare legs folded against your chest, you sit against the wall dry-heaving because you’re out of tears to cry. More than Alina, it’s a pain that’s hard to explain.

You’re so tired of saying goodbye; the friends you’ve grieved, whose families you’ve had to give your condolences to, usually, if not always accompanied by either Hange or Levi. Your heart is a bottomless graveyard. You couldn’t possibly spare enough tears for each of them, but your heart is stubborn enough to try.

Levi finds you this way after he knocks on the door, hearing the water, but not you. You’re not quite there to comprehend his voice, nor his warning that he’s coming in—not until he appears in the open curtain, parted just slightly. Suddenly, you’re far too aware of everything.

“I’m sorry,” you hear yourself rasp. “I wasn’t thinking, wasted water, sorry.”

He tugs it a little wider. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he tells you gently.

The wooden mechanism cries as it’s shut off, followed by the drip-drip-drip, then the quiet, which is somehow deafening. You notice his cravat is gone, and he’s already peeled his jacket, boots, and waistskirt off, but other than that he’s still in uniform; it’s hard to imagine his shirt ever once being pressed and white.

Another apology sits on your tongue—eventually Levi was always going to come scrub the filth of the past two weeks off him—but you keep it to yourself, as he said.

“Can I come in?”

“Please,” you whisper.

He does, and crouches down heavily. A fluffy towel is draped over your shoulders.

“I’m still disgusting,” he warns, “but do you want help getting up?”

“Please,” you say again.

He rolls up his filthy sleeves, then helps you rise to your feet. Now that you don’t have to keep it together anymore, it all comes crumbling down. Even Levi isn’t impervious to it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

On the lid of the toilet you wring the towel through your hair. He does the rest, thoroughly, which reminds you that you have little idea how you’d cope without him.

He leaves you for only a moment to retrieve a fresh change of clothes for you, and it’s only with the stiff way he drops them on the counter that you start to worry it’s more than post-expedition fatigue.

Your jaw tightens. “Are you hurt?”

Either you’ve both been through enough, or he’s too tired to argue. “It’s not bad.”

First of all, he needs to clean up. You’ll get dressed, and he’ll join you soon.

You relent, unsurprised when “soon” turns into a half-hour. Levi’s brief, combat-style showers are unthinkable just after an expedition. It’s no wonder why, but this time you have reason to worry.

Too sick to even think of eating, you chip away at the paperwork at his desk—numbers to add, death certificates, field reports, numbers to subtract—while you wait. He must’ve spoken with Erwin. You wonder what they talked about; not even Erwin is immune to everything, no matter how his own mask portrays him to be.

While you work, you think of nothing, but at the same time, everything. Every second, every sound, every sensation. The snapping of jaws.

You rub your temples and rationalize that if Levi is injured that badly, he would have no choice but to see a medic, but never without some push and shove. Even if he was bleeding out he would claim it was a waste of resources.

After listening like a hawk for the water to shut off for an eternity, it finally does. In short sleeves and baggy pants, you meet him in front of the bathroom door, him staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real.

“We still have shit to do,” he states blandly.

You ignore him and ask, “Where are you hurt?” as you lead him by the small of his back in the direction of the bedroom.

It takes a little push and shove for him to relent, as always. He mentions something about a mother hen and a little bruising and more words that, at their root, mean, It’s not bad, up until you ask him to show you, and he hesitates.

“Levi.” Sat on the foot of the bed beside him, you remain firm. “I’m not asking anymore.”

“...It’s unnecessary.”

“To you.”

He scowls at you weakly. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“...To you.”

He straightens up when he hears your voice shake, then winces a little. “It’s—It’s not. I wanted to see if tightening my belts would make me more accurate, and it did. They’ll be gone by next time.”

You could scream. “You idiot. You run yourself into the ground already—what’s hurting yourself gonna do?” Your next breath shudders. “You’re too important, and not just to me.”

“It saved more lives,” he argues stubbornly. “Don’t you get sick of watching your comrades die?”

You stop, hanging onto your last breath, and hang your head a little. You’d think after so many years seeing death everywhere you look, you’d be used to it by now, but this was an old friend.

“Who doesn’t?” you remark, staring at a crack in the floorboard. “But you’re not just someone’s comrade, and you know that. You’re being careless.”

“…You lost someone, didn’t you?”

It’s less of a question, more of an observation. Calmly, he takes your twitching hand in his own to rub the aches out of them—always from the ODM triggers—careful to avoid bandaged spots.

With a shake of your head, you tug on his knee to encourage him to face you. “Let me see.”

He shuffles towards you, but he doesn’t look happy about it. “You were crying.”

“I cry at everything,” you dismiss easily, guiding his chin towards you. Though his frown is weighted by stones, waiting to see what you have to say, his cheeks are soft cradled in your hands.

Reverently, you lean in and press a fragile kiss to his forehead. “Levi, love of my life, this is stupid,” you tell him as lovingly as possible. “Even if I wasn’t here to worry about you, you can’t do this. All you can do is all you can do, and even then… I’ve seen you do more than anyone.” Always. “I’d feel a lot better if you showed me. There’s solutions to bruises.”

He melts—a little at first, then like butter in a hot skillet. “...Fine.”

With a little help, he stiffly pulls his shirt over his head. Forcefully, you put on a mask of careful indifference. You know how guilty he feels every time something like this happens as a result of good-intentioned, but self-sacrificing actions.

Bruising, as he said. Where his harness once was—four corners stretching both under his arms and over both shoulders—there’s bruising. Bruises criss-cross in an X shape following down his lower back, which disappears under his trousers. His chest is no different: a mess of purplish-bluish-black stretches across his stocky chest, follows down his midsection, and disappears in a V shape below his waist.

You again resist an urge, this time to shake him. You’re willing to bet more circle around his upper thighs, that they wind down his legs, and dig into the bottoms of his feet.

You stand abruptly to dig through the bathroom for lotion and first-aid, but not without petting his head first so he knows there’s no more anger waiting to be spewed. “Stay here.”

He nods.

You’re more worried than even disappointed anymore. If it’s as you suspect and there’s no exception to where his ODM was strapped on, then the only places he was spared are his arms, his lower legs, and (of course) from the neck up.

That’s it, no more work tonight. You’ll strap him down if you have to.

Back in the bedroom, he did as you said, but with the favor of dressing down to just his briefs, which makes you feel a little lighter. There are bruises on his thighs. His clothes are neatly folded by his side.

He straightens up just as you climb onto the bed behind him and uncap the bottle. “I met with Erwin earlier. There’s death certificates to take care of. Letters too, after you’re done.”

“It’ll be a little cold at first.”

Then cold, cold cream lands on his shoulders, which you immediately begin to lather. You dig your fingertips in just a little, and he knuckles the bedspread, fighting a groan.

“Look, I heard what you said, but we shouldn’t keep those families waiting.”

“You look. If Erwin knew about this—” you pop your head over his shoulder and gesture down, “—he’d tell you to do the same thing I’m doing now. Say, hypothetically, he somehow found out…”

He’s not impressed by your threat of blackmail, but doesn’t argue. Erwin is a bigger force to be reckoned with. Levi could get put off-duty, or worse, lectured.

The stuff you’re massaging into his back, right between his shoulderblades, must’ve been expensive: it’s actually thick, actually consistent, and actually doing something. Eventually, the cold fades into an icy sort of burn that’s so powerful he feels his muscles physically loosen.

He had no idea just how tightly he was wound until you start kneading your palms in—not too hard, mindful of the bruises themselves—and he has to fight his eyes on shutting, then his mind on dozing.

This and that can wait until tomorrow, you keep saying. You keep rebuking him, and he starts to have real trouble arguing now that you’re almost through with the muscles on his lower back. It has to be the worst there, because it’s never been so hard to resist showing how much he’s enjoying this.

“Your hands—”

“—feel good?”

“No,” he huffs. “Your injuries—”

“Oh? They don’t? Should I go harder?”

He knows what you’re doing. Maybe it’s better he just suffers the consequences of his actions. His thighs throb dully.

Breathing hard, he finally manages, “What if I can’t sleep?”

“For once I doubt that,” you retort, sounding very pleased with yourself.

Fuck you for always reading him so well. He shudders a breath as you get through with his hips, and says nothing.

Now you round his other side and kneel down, looking almost scarily determined. There really is no changing your mind, let alone stopping you.

Strange. When he actually lets go a little, he feels less stressed. Nothing exists except for your magic hands and the focused little frown on your face as you work, and the sounds are your breaths and his much heavier ones.

So he doesn’t fall asleep, he watches your face as you move over his pecs. His middle isn’t as bad, so he can focus to talk, and explain.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that recruitment is in the ground—ah—has been for years now, and our living-to-dead ratio per expedition isn’t great, either.”

You click your tongue as you settle between his legs. “It’s better than before Erwin came up with the long-range formation.”

Not that he’s wrong.

The lotion is terribly slippery in your hands, shaded a very diluted yellow that makes his skin almost shine when you rub it into his twitching belly muscles. It’s obvious how well it’s working—not that you plan to tell him how expensive it was—but you also notice, with unease, the way it makes the violent bruising brighter and somehow angrier than before.

He grunts in disagreement, though you aren’t wrong. While Shadis was Commander—and before that, he’s told—a great deal of what the Scouts used to do outside the Walls was group up in squads, ride together, and recover as much territory as they could, until they could no longer.

Thing is, Titan country is never short on Titans, which frustrates Levi to no end.

As far as they know (as far as Hange’s figured out, rather), the way they breed is a complete mystery. Where they come from, why, and for what horrific reason they like to eat people has been a mystery since history became history.

He thinks, dejectedly, that the most compelling piece of data they’ve collected since he joined up was that notebook a Scout named Ilse Langnar was found clutching. His and Hange’s squads recovered her from the depths of a hollowed-out tree a Titan had stuck her in. It spoke to her, called her by a different name, even.

Now that he thinks about it, forget data: all they reaped from that day was a heap of more questions.

“I spoke to Erwin about a fortnight ago before we left,” you’re saying. You’ve skipped past his thighs for now, and sit cross-legged on the floor massaging the bottom of his foot, which is propped up on your knee.

He practically punctures the bedspread from clutching so hard in order to resist twitching, flinching, and especially launching into a fit of laughter.

“What—” He moans under his breath,“—What was it. What’d you talk about?”

You’re forced to pin his ankle down so he doesn’t twitch away from you. So ticklish. He’s lucky he’s cute.

“We—”

Levi squirms.

“Captain Levi, you better sit still.”

He huffs petulantly. “Fuck you. It’s your fault. Deal with it.”

“Is it really?” You dart your thumbs on his most ticklish area just to rile him up. You hear a gasp, then only a hint of a raspy chuckle before he nearly kicks you in the face—accidentally, of course.

Maybe it isn’t your fault. He’s willing to agree with anything you say if it’ll get him to sleep sooner.

His bruises pang dully, an amazing improvement from before. A profound heaviness drags him further and further into a warm nothingness. You make it very easy.

You decided to be generous and massaged his calves anyway. Up you go now. Almost done.

You return to what you were saying before. Erwin briefly confided in you and Mike over drinks when the discussion of future expeditions came up about two weeks ago; sealing Shiganshina bled heavily into that conversation.

Levi’s right that they don’t have enough bodies. The Survey Corps has always been an unpopular regiment for obvious reasons, and what’s worse, there’s no doubt numbers would be even less by the time you made it to the gates.

Even if you all traveled during nightfall, you’d have nothing to seal the gates themselves with. Stone is too heavy for the horses; Hange claims Titans aren’t tricked by tarp, nor canvas, nor wool, and even if they thought up a solution, there’s a good chance most of who’s left would die on the return home—if anyone is left.

You’re in a bad way, to be very vague and very blithe.

Levi grunts. You’re molding your fingertips with each side of his knees now, a fresh dollop of lotion making him shiver.

“Those Abnormal idiots haven’t been seen in almost five years.” He groans. “Fuck, not so hard.”

You ease up, flex your smarting fingers, and wait until he goes boneless again. After what he just said, you almost want to knock on wood.

“Yeah, but that’s no reason to get comfortable.”

His hands planted back behind him are all that’s keeping him upright now. “Obviously. I’m just taking account of our shitty situation.”

“I know, angel.”

His eyes are closed. “Erwin will figure something out. He always does, is. His brain never stops working. Probably doesn’t sleep, that bastard.”

You chitter a little, amused. “You don’t sleep.”

“Yeah.”

You don’t think he’s listening. “Why don’t you lay back?”

He peels his eyes open. “With this slime all over me?”

“I’m not asking,” you tell him again. You will strap him down if it comes to that.

With a little effort, he manages until his head is on the pillows. The bruises on his back throb a little, but the good pain wins over the bad until he floats at the very edge of a pleasant, dull sleep. The next thing he knows, you’re back between his legs, massaging more lotion into one of his heavy thighs.

He shades his eyes with his arm and ignores the fact that he’s somehow half-hard. After the past two weeks, how is that even possible?

“Almost done,” you sigh softly, sounding pleased.

All this attention generously given to him when you never addressed who you lost out there earlier. You never snap at him, and after what he said, that’s how he knew.

He wishes it was more rare that he found you in such a state upon coming back. Part of him too is still out there, fighting, so much so that the sight of you standing after he showered stunned him for a moment.

What can be done about those things? Nothing. There’s no fixed solution, no light at the end of the tunnel guaranteed, but there’s always something he can do as far as you’re concerned.

Whatever that thing is that makes him fearless, and somehow completely safe, and happy, but also scared—he can at least share that with you. Let it consume you both. He knows there’s a name for it, but he doesn’t want to name it, not right now.

His pensive eyes are on you as you finish up. Watching you so candidly leaves him feeling excruciatingly sappy even when all the grief forces him to feel nothing.

He gets like that after every expedition. Tomorrow, without fail, he’ll be on a cleaning frenzy (he’s been antsy; two weeks gives dust plenty of opportunity to collect), and you’ll likely be forging his signature so there’s less work for you both to do later. His name looks better in your handwriting, anyway.

HQ will be somber, quiet, in mourning. Unlike Shadis, Erwin mandates a day off after each expedition. In the worst of cases, two.

Much later—or not, time has blurred together—he instinctively rolls over to you and lays his head down on your chest. He’s wearing pants again.

Then, he sees the light dim down behind his eyelids, and remembers himself a little. “Your fingers.”

“Bad, but not that bad,” you murmur, combing his hair backwards. “I cleaned up while you were asleep.”

Overwhelmed, his jaw moves a little uselessly. “That’s not fair.”

“Tomorrow,” you assure him, but he insists on asking, just in case, about whoever you lost. The pain on your face earlier was palpable.

“No, I’m happy right now,” you sigh wetly. “It made me feel better to, to make you feel better. So please.”

He uses the very last of his energy to lean up and kiss you somewhere—he thinks your jaw.

“Fine.” He’s whispering this. “But that goes both ways. Tomorrow let me—”

“Always.” You kiss his hair. "I will."

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