𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃

i think too many people forget that gojo is actually insane

Sketches of kave in progress

it fell off. now i have to pay up 300 pesos the next time i'm going to the dentist for braces adjustment. shit

i ate too much candies now my bracket is on the verge of falling off

WHAT!!!!!

miya atsumu x reader, 2k

SUMMARY: osamu asks if you ever get jealous when people flirt with atsumu.

A/N: holding my hands up to say that yes i love osamu more. i DO. but atsumu has been wreaking havoc in my mind lately…… so. here we are. this is very sappy if i’m being Real with you. also sel this is for u and the unfortunate realisations we have both come to — godbless.

The street lights outside blink an ugly shade of yellow as the sun finally makes way for the moon.

Osamu flips the sign on the front door to closed before taking a seat in front of you.

If your schedule hadn’t been so hectic this week, you’d be at the stadium watching the Black Jackals match in real time and celebrating their win.

Knowing Atsumu, you would most definitely be donning his jersey in the crowd as you cheered. He gets pouty if you don’t, and you’ve learned to pick your battles over the years.

Instead, it’s 8pm and you’ve made yourself comfortable in an empty booth at Onigiri Miya, eyes focused on the screen where it hangs on the wall.

“It’s miraculous you aren’t worried, honestly,” Osamu said, the words slurred through his full mouth. You hum absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the tv screen.

He only gestured at the television, where Atsumu was doing an interview post match and looking particularly handsome despite the sweat dripping down his face. He was nodding, smiling, speaking. The usual motions. There was a woman next to him. You weren’t really looking at her. Atsumu laughed, tipping his head back and exposing the long line of his neck, and you found that infinitely more interesting.

“Worried about all that,” Osamu said. His arm was still aloft, making a motion at the woman interviewing his twin, and when you humoured him to take a look, you found said woman already looking at Atsumu.

“She’s looking at him because he’s speaking,” you pointed out.

Osamu made a face. “Yeah, duh, I know, but like. You know what I mean.” he took a sip of his drink, offering it to you. You took it. “Tsumu getting flirted with at work.”

“Ah,” you said.

He had gotten lemonade, which was sweet of him. You liked lemonade a lot more than he did. "It's been happening since high school. I'm kind of used to it by now."

There was something skeptical in the slant of Osamu’s brow. "He's getting hit on a lot more now though."

You hummed again. You knew that, too. Atsumu had complained about it more than once.

But you reckoned that it was just the natural progression of things. Atsumu had always been attractive, had always been the kind of good-looking that made you question whether your eyes were working correctly, but then he got older.

Broader. More muscular. More confident.

You were willing to bet that it was the confidence that did it more than anything.

Once, when they were all drunk out of their minds, Suna had remarked that Atsumu walked like he "owned fifteen different properties both in Japan and overseas", and you had nearly peed yourself laughing at how ridiculously spot-on it was.

"It doesn't bother me," you said, laughing a little when Osamu's face went from lightly skeptical to completely unconvinced. "Honestly! It really doesn't!"

"Not that I'm saying you have reason to be worried," Osamu began, "but I will never let you forget how fucking sulky you got back then, especially because I was the sorry ass in charge of making sure you cheered up."

You couldn't even defend yourself, but you were going to try to anyway. "I wasn't that bad."

Osamu looked at you with a flat expression. "You at some point said, and I quote, ‘Samu, I am never going to find love ever again,' after a reporter asked for his number."

You screeched, hitting his shoulder and whining when he dodged easily. "Why do you even remember that? Fucking weirdo."

"How else am I gonna keep you under control if not through blackmail?" Osamu said, dodging again when you tried for another hit. "It's your own goddamn fault that you keep giving me ammunition."

"Fuck off, it was different back then. I was in denial and pining over my stupid crush," you sniffed, settling more into the seat and stealing the last of the lemonade in indignation.

"You're still very much in denial and pining," Osamu pointed out. "I don't even fucking know how and why you're still pining because you're actually dating him now."

"Rich coming from you. How long did it take you to ask your girlfriend out again? Pot and kettle or however the saying goes."

Osamu scowled, "I am nowhere near as bad as you.”

"You Libra placements and your denial..."

"Letting you get into astrology is a mistake I will never recover from."

"Please, and when you want me to look at your compatibility chart again-"

Osamu clamped a hand over your mouth, shushing you desperately. "What the fuck."

"The blackmailing is mutual," you said, shoving him off of you. "Equal exchange, I give half of my humiliation to you, you give half of yours to me."

"This isn't equivalent, you gave me all of your embarrassment and I've barely done anything— don't look at me like that."

You only raised an eyebrow further.

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'm not saying anything?"

"You're loud even when you're quiet."

You both give it a break for a while, going back to eating and watching. There was a different player on screen now, one that you’re pretty sure you’ve met before but can’t place the name. Osamu seems to know since he’s listening intently.

Sakusa shows up next, followed by Hinata and Bokuto before it pans back to the whole team and you catch sight of Atsumu again, this time with another interviewer who was standing too close for comfort. At the sight of this exchange, Osamu turns to you again.

"You're really not worried? Like, seriously?" he asked, quieter this time, not a single trace of teasing in his voice.

You were touched with how concerned he was. For all of his complaining, he was invested in your happiness, seemingly more so than his own actual brother.

"Seriously," you repeated. "I'm not worried. Genuinely.”

.

.

.

You were already in bed when Atsumu trudged through the door. Your boyfriend had stopped in place as he found you, and it made you smile, a little helpless, and extend a hand.

"Hi," you said. He didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry," he said, rubbing at his eyes and shrugging off his bag. "I just have to make sure I'm not dreaming and that there really is the most gorgeous person on earth in my bed right now."

"Oh fuck off," you said, voice choked and close to a wail. Atsumu only grinned, laughing when you covered your face with your arms.

"Babeee," he whined, ambling over to the bed to plop himself on top of you. "Hey, come on." He reached up to peel your arms away, and the look on his face was something between complete rapture and excitement. He looked at you like that a lot.

"Hi there," Atsumu said, smile wide enough to break his face, and you could never in your life resist it.

"Hi there," you repeated. Your hands went to the back of his neck to tug him down, and he was more than happy to come closer. You hadn't kissed since this morning, and it was almost midnight now. You had to make up for lost time.

"You okay?" you asked again when you came up for air eventually. Atsumu's face was in your neck, his mouth open and sweet against your skin, tongue and teeth and lips laving over the spot where your pulse roared. You kept shivering at each little nip and suck. You could feel Atsumu smiling. You didn't know whether to kiss him again or hit him.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. He pressed another kiss near your collarbone. "Have you now. I'm all good."

You huffed a little laugh through your nose. "My baby’s exhausted?"

You felt more then saw the small shudder that went through his body and hid your smile by putting your face in his hair. He smelled like lavender— the new cologne you had bought him a few weeks ago.

"Yeah," Atsumu said, the words all breathy and sighed-through and it made another shiver hiss through you, fluttery and warm and all-consuming. "Your baby’s exhausted."

"You showered before you got home?" you asked. Atsumu's skin felt clean under your fingers, none of the tackiness of sweat from playing a game left behind.

He made a small noise, petulant, but relented when you wouldn't stop pinching his cheeks.

"Come up, big baby, I just wanna see you— there you are." you smiled, watched as he mirrored it. You ran your thumbs over the highs of Atsumu's cheekbones, over his eyebrows. He closed his eyes, humming as you tipped his face this way and that. His ears were red under all of your careful attention. His ears always did that. You’ve been dating for almost two years.

You were kind of thrilled.

"Look at you," you said, low and hushed and unabashedly awed.

There was a slice of moonlight that had slipped through the curtains, and it caught the side of Atsumu's face— you had spent a lot of time looking at him. Through the years spent as a young girl with a crush so huge it felt world-ending, through the time spent before you got together, carrying feelings under your tongue and biting down in the hopes it wouldn't bleed through your words.

Until now— still as lovestruck as the day you met him but more settled now, more complete, because to love someone as they are and not as they show you is to love them whole— you looked at Atsumu. Sometimes you were sure that you knew Atsumu's face better than your own.

Even back then, when you were just the nebulous idea of friends, studying Atsumu never felt like you were studying a stranger.

You had spent a lot of time looking at him, but even still there were moments where he would turn, or his profile would catch the light differently, or he'd look at you the way he did now, and you’d be overwhelmed all over again.”

"You're so pretty," you said, smiling as red bloomed, ruddy and bright, across the planes of Atsumu's face.

"Baby’s so pretty. Stunning."

"Stop," he whined, trying to get out of your grip, but you knew that whenever your boyfriend said 'stop' he really meant 'keep going'.

"Prettiest boy in the world," you breathed, giggling when Atsumu could only whine again, his face crumpling in embarrassment. "Pretty pretty pretty.”

"That's you," Atsumu said, leaning up a little to press a kiss to your forehead. "The prettiest person in the world is you."

"Hmm, still think it's you," you said, and watched as the flush spread to his neck, over his shoulders, peaches over cream.

It still shocked you sometimes, how well you can read each tick and shift in his expression. How the little twitch to his upper lip meant that he wanted to kiss you, how his eyes would go dark whenever you called him beautiful.

How there was a certain smile that he seemed to save for no one else but you. It sat slightly goofy on his face, crooked and dimpled, a tad bit too human to be shown in front of cameras. You hoarded all of those smiles. Atsumu only ever smiled like that when he was too happy to care about how he looked, too caught up in the bubble you created for yourselves to let any passing thought intrude.

He was smiling like that now.

"Missed you too," you murmured against his mouth, the words a kiss of their own. You cupped his cheeks. "Missed my boyfriend very much."

You watched him as he unfurled, closing his eyes, that smile at full-force. A moonflower in bloom. It scared you sometimes, how much power you had over him. Everyday you woke up and hoped you deserved it.

Atsumu leaned in again, kissed you again, and you were distantly brought back to your conversation with Osamu, to the concern and curiosity in his eyes.

"You're really not worried? Seriously?"

Atsumu's tongue slipped into your mouth, and any last bit of thought was wiped clean.

You weren’t worried. You really, really weren’t.

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. late night blues.

contrary to popular belief, atsumu’s social battery is not at all long-lasting.

sure, he was well-known all throughout his school, could hold a conversation to a degree, and is often seen with a lazy smile on his face as he greets his schoolmates and fans alike, but that did not mean that he didn’t get exhausted by maintaining his social quota to a higher level.

and when his social battery is leeched dry, you can immediately tell.

“what’s up, buttercup?” you quietly ask, linking your arm with atsumu’s as you two continue on with your late-night walk together.

it’s the little signs that you notice even amidst the dark surroundings. his nose scrunches ever so slightly, his mouth thins to a small pout, and he unmistakenly goes quiet all of a sudden—no matter what he was talking about prior.

“tired‘s’all,” he answers, a soft sigh emitting from him.

you hum, knowing better than to push it. “wanna head back? i can walk you home.”

“no, no.” atsumu shook his head in reply to your suggestion. “i still wanna stay with ya,” he tells you, finding solace in how the evening wind feels against his face, nearing hyogo’s idle public parks. “humor me for a moment, yeah?”

“shoot,” you snort.

he’s careful with his words.

“d’ya love me?”

“of course,” you answer without even the slightest hint of hesitation. “i love you so, so much, ‘tsum.”

he feels your grip on his hand become firm, yet it still carried that gentleness he knew and love. atsumu visibly relaxes, and a short breath of relief exhales through his mouth.

“what brought this up, hm?”

“dunno,” he answers truthfully. “just wanted ta ask.”

“‘tsumu.”

“y/n.”

“‘tsum.”

“y/n.”

“is that all there is to it?” you ask him once more. “because if something’s bothering you, you know that you can talk to me about it, right?”

“mhm,” he nods. “was a tad bit—well, felt—insecure for a second there.”

another thing was that when atsumu’s social battery ran low, it brought out impulsive thoughts that he thought had never bothered him before. those thoughts that he tried to shrug off with one of his signature quipbacks and whatnot begin to resurface once he feels vulnerable and exhausted.

“well, i love you very, very much, ‘tsum.”

“even if i do corny shit just to gain yer attention?”

“yes.”

“even if i spam your messages once class and practice is over?”

“yes.”

“even if i sometimes sulk about being the lesser twin?”

“miya atsumu,” you say, cupping his cheek. “there is no such thing as being the lesser twin when you and your brother are mentioned in the same light, ok?”

he doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“you are you, and your brother is your brother. you may be identical, but your personality is different, your handwriting is different, and how you perceive things in life is different,” you explain, steady with what you say to get your point across.

“but that doesn’t make you the ‘lesser’ twin just because he’s a bit more levelheaded, y’know?”

atsumu made a small whining sound.

“you’re miya atsumu, and you’re the only you in this world; d’ya get me?” you chuckle, peppering kisses all over his face. “you’re unique because you’re you.”

and your boyfriend practically melts and basks in your attention. reassured, and loved.

just as it should be.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

this is canon in my head

my smart-and-doesn't-need-to-review classmates b speedrunning sumeru explorations rn while i am speedrunning the writing of my subject notes <\3 how to stop being grouped w smart kids and being in section a !?!

anyway. kinning this song rn

Cw: yandere, suggestive (for Kaiser)

I found out these wonderful yan bllck drawings and felt compelled to translate them (to the best of my abilities) and share them. The original artist is zunko_2225 on Twitter, they have a lovely artstyle and I recommend checking them out!

P.S: Kaiser's "get ready for fucking" likely meant "fucking prepare yourself" but my thirst for this man was happier with the first version, even if the second one is enough to make me weak on my knees

☆ 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲 - ,, 𝘀𝗮𝗲

summary: growing up best friends with the itoshi brothers takes a turn for the worst when you end up falling for sae. once he leaves for university, you don't hear from him for a while, but it's been a few years and fate has other plans for you. warnings: gn!reader , cursing , minor angst , reader is a teenager with messy teenage feelings , absolute word vomit , kind of bad writing , not proof-read ! word count: 5.1k a/n: don't ask me what this is im obsessed with sae so. also pls look away from the cringe ass title its a lyric from a niki song guys- anyways i hope this is legible

you haven't seen sae in so long.

it's all you can think about as you loiter in front of the itoshi family home, pacing in front of the door with your hands shoved into the pockets of your hoodie. you're certain your heavy, anxious footsteps are going to leave dents in the wooden paneling of their front porch—it almost makes you feel guilty.

almost only because you really weren't planning on unearthing years of buried feelings on a random thursday afternoon. 

when you woke up this morning, muted spring sunlight greeting you with its soft touch, you had decided it was going to be a good day. spring break meant you were home for the next two weeks, with no responsibilities and a lot of friends to catch up with. 

honestly, you were planning on lounging around for most of the day, going out to meet a few people for dinner, then coming back home and binging some drama on netflix until you inevitably fell asleep. 

so when you went downstairs, greeted with the scent of sweet chocolatey brownies, you wondered what the special occasion was for your mom to be baking so early in the morning. 

you shouldn't have asked—if you could go back in time, you would take the chance and stop yourself from ever asking what she was up to. you should have known she would sic it onto you.

that's precisely why you're standing in front of the itoshi home, contemplating ringing the doorbell, a small pastel blue tin full of brownies held in one hand. the other held onto the card your mother wrote to mrs. itoshi.

she's always been a sweet woman, rather sentimental in her disposition, holding onto useless trinkets from when her sons were little kids still and littering the walls of their home with so many photos.

you were up there too, chubby cheeked and missing a few teeth because that's what childhood is like. 

you grew up with the itoshi brothers, spending every moment with them because they lived right across from you and when you're kids, the people within walking distance end up your best friends.

you didn't have much in common with them—they were aloof when things were good and stoic when things were bad (as stoic as children can be) and you loved to huff and puff, dramatizing every last thing.

you like to think you grew out of your old ways, but then again, here you are losing hair and probably graying because you're too nervous to hand over some brownies. 

perhaps before university, you wouldn't have had an issue with this. 

though you lacked similar interests, you remained close friends with both rin and sae. but you were closer with rin. you were the same age and you had the same home room—and he let you copy his history homework if you let him copy your chemistry homework so there was an incentive to remain close. 

he was also a good friend when he wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, faking indifference.

plus: looking at rin didn't kick your naive teenaged heart into overdrive. 

sae, on the other hand? you avoided like the plague. 

around your first year of middle school, you realized sae made you feel...strange. it wasn't an entirely foreign feeling because it was the same way you felt while watching zuko in avatar: the last airbender. that sickening tightness in your chest while your face grew warm, palms grew clammy, until you felt like you were running out of breath. 

maybe it had something to do with the night you went camping with the itoshis. you’ve never been the biggest fan of camping, but you went anyway because they’re your best friends. it’s only right. you started regretting your decision when night arrived and all you could think about were the countless horror stories about bears destroying campsites, or crazed hatchet wielding murderers killing innocent campers. 

so you laid in the tent you shared with rin and sae, squished between the both of them, fear gripping your heart tighter than vice and making your blood run cold.

“why are you still awake?” you startle at sae’s quiet but firm tone, trying to calm your nerves just enough to respond. “how’d you even know i was awake?”

“you’re breathing way too fast for someone who’s supposed to be sleeping.”

so you begrudgingly tell him all about how you’re terrified after making him pinky promise not to make fun of you and not to tell rin. he’s silent for a moment, before climbing out of the tent, beckoning you to follow him.

and you do, though you don’t really know why. he takes you to a small clearing in the woods you’re camping out in, and you’re scared shitless, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his hoodie but he doesn’t seem to mind.

he peers over at you, the faintest smile on his face as it points up at the sky, “the stars are easier to see here.” so you look up too, and find that he’s right—that the sky is pierced with tiny dots of sparkling light, too many to count. it’s breathtaking and you can feel your heartbeat slow down, fear melting away to make room for something more serene. sae steps closer to you and you pretend not to notice, but you do and it feels different this time, even though he’s been shoulder to shoulder with you before.

he leads you back to the tent in one piece, you both fall asleep without saying a single word to each other. the next morning, you wake up and rin seems none the wiser to your irrational fear of an untimely demise in the woods.

sae kept his promise and it makes you smile. an unfamiliar feeling sprouts to life deep inside you.

you brushed it off because sae was in high school now, sae was different now. of course you'd feel strange around him—he was older and smarter and cooler. he probably knew things you have yet to even hear about; it's fine, you told yourself, you’d get to his age and you’ll stop feeling this way about him.

but then you were going into your first year of high school and this feeling never went away. in fact, it only grew over time, like a rubber band wrapped around your heart, twisting tighter and tighter every time you looked at sae. 

every shared glance, every softly muttered greeting—they built up, growing taller and taller until it all tumbled to the ground, crashing into you without warning.

you liked sae.

suddenly having a label for these strange feelings didn't make them any more manageable or any less daunting. this label—your crush on sae—only worsened the state you were in. 

whenever you'd see sae walking down a hallway—the first two buttons of his shirt undone (despite the fact that the dress code stated they must stay buttoned), afternoon sun draped over his face, letting his long lashes cast shadows against his cheeks—you'd turn a corner, running from his sight.

you started taking a longer route around the school when you left, tired from the day's trials and tribulations, but not tired enough to walk past the field and risk seeing sae in his jersey, sweat dripping down his temple, tracing the curvature of his face before disappearing past the sharp line of his jaw.

you stopped spending so much time with the itoshis, turning down invitations to go to amusement parks and arcades and other excursions because the thought of being close to sae like you had been during that camping trip made you feel like you were drowning.

rin noticed, of course he did. there’s no way he wasn’t going to notice his best friend suddenly avoiding his home, or throwing around dumb excuses to skip hanging out with him. at first, he was certain he had upset you somehow, so he spent a while wracking his brain and trying to remember the last fight he had with you.

eventually, he realized he wasn’t the problem, but his older brother was. 

the itoshi household was a fairly calm one. until rin cornered his older brother, fire in his eyes as he asked what the hell he did to upset you. 

that’s when he realized the problem wasn’t sae either (because he had no idea what rin was even talking about—sae hadn’t seen your face in weeks), it was you. whatever was going on with you was something you were conjuring up in that overdramatic mind of yours.

so he confronted you, after school near a stairwell after catching you taking the long way home. 

“what’s wrong with you?” he asks, deadpanned and you groan, not wanting to deal with this. it’s the tail end of spring and although the flowers are blooming and the grass is a bright green, the heat of a summer to come kisses your cheeks and leaves you unbearably warm.

“there’s nothing wrong with me, rin,” you counter, rolling your eyes. “now, let me go home, i have work to do–”

“you’re avoiding me.”

“i’m literally talking to you right now.”

he clicks his tongue in annoyance and crosses his arms over his chest, “okay, then you’re avoiding sae.”

you like to think you’re something of a convincing liar, and to some degree, you are. you can get away with the occasional, ‘i forgot my homework at home, can i bring it in tomorrow?’ and ‘i don’t have my wallet on me, can you pay?’ 

unfortunately for you, none of your lies ever work on rin because he knows all your stupid tells, and right now, you stiffen at the sheer mention of sae which only goads him on. “what happened with sae? he said he hasn’t seen you–”

“you asked him?” you almost shout, incredulous at the audacity of itoshi rin. “why would you ever do that?”

“you weren’t telling me.”

“oh my god–” you groan, covering your face with your hands. if sae didn’t already notice your blatant attempts at avoiding him, he was certainly going to notice them now, thanks to fucking itoshi rin. 

rin just steps closer to you, unbothered with your deep scowl and the rage swimming in your eyes. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”

you tell him to walk with you because it’s a long story (it’s not really—you just want to get him away from the school where sae is, and you also want him near the convenience store so you can bribe him with food before coming clean). 

rin finds out about your massively debilitating crush on sae with a pack of plain chips in his hand, standing right in front of the farthest 7-11 from school.

he takes it somewhat well (meaning: he doesn’t try to beat you into the ground), but he makes it known that he doesn’t think his brother is deserving of your attention—not like that anyway. 

“yeah well– you think i woke up one day and chose to like sae?” you grumble, stealing a few of the bribery chips from him. “it just turned out that way, okay?” 

and then rin awards you with one of his billion dollar ideas, the ones that send you into cardiac arrest from sheer idiocy alone. 

“why don’t you just…tell him?”

you turn to look at him slowly, so slowly it's menacing. if looks could kill, he’d have died as soon as your eyes met his. “give me one good reason i shouldn’t punch you for that dumb fucking idea.”

he’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s riling you up, but he also thinks your dilemma is stupid. “just confess, if he doesn’t feel the same way, then you don’t have to waste your time drooling over him.”

rin walks you home with a bruised shoulder, the bribery chips in your hands after you stole the entire bag away from him for reparations. 

by the time sae’s graduating high school, you’re head over heels for him, barely able to contain the way your heart soars at the very thought of him. it’s embarrassing and it’s horrible because sae probably sees you as some extension of his little brother—meaning sae is never going to see you the same way you see him.

so when it’s summertime and he’s packing his things up for college, you wonder if you even want to go say goodbye. as his friend, you know you should. who knows when you’d see him next? you’ve known sae for almost your whole life—you should wish him well on this new chapter of his life.

but the selfish part of you, the part of you that wants to shield yourself away from the thought of sae ever leaving, keeps you rooted to the floor of your bedroom. seeing the packed suitcases and his near empty room will only solidify the fact that he’s leaving. 

he’s not going to be around for the next year, or the year after that, and it hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. after that, you won't be around either, most likely, so then when will you see sae again?

you don’t want to miss out on seeing sae a final time, so you push yourself to go over and say hi, trying your best not to cry because that’s lame and you’re not lame like that. 

he seems shocked to see you there, in his presence, instead of jumping through hoops to get far away from him. but after the initial shock, sae seems almost relieved to see you standing there, waiting to bid him goodbye.

“you’re here.”

you nod softly, not meeting his eyes because you know that his emerald stare is only going to coax the tears waiting behind your lashes. “i wanted to wish you good luck…have fun…at college.”

he takes a step closer and you want to take one back, but you don’t. “i will. stay safe while i’m gone.”

it makes you laugh, like he’s been protecting you—as if. but you nod anyway just to appease him and you stare at him, taking in the way he’s styled his hair and the single hoop earring on his right ear and the thin silver chain around his neck. 

now that you’re here, so close to sae, all you can think about is how much you’ll miss him. something cracks within the cavity of your chest, narrow but deep like a fissure, and you can’t read the meaning behind his slight frown or the furrow in his brows. you can’t understand the softness in his eyes when he looks at you.

he loads up his things, everyone says goodbye and you dig your nails into your palm so that you won’t start sobbing in front of sae. everyone takes turns wishing him goodbye once more, just alone. you’re the last one to go, purposefully placing yourself last because you’re nervous about being alone with him. 

you walk over, fully prepared to repeat exactly what you had said earlier. you take one look at him, sweltering heat making his hair stick to his forehead as the setting sun makes him glow orange, and it's like the fissure cracks and breaks instantly. 

you’re pouring out your heart before you can stop yourself. 

“sae- i’m going to really miss you,” you whisper, arms wrapped around yourself as the words just keep tumbling out. “and i know you probably won’t miss me as much– or at least not in the same way, because i like you and i have liked you for so long.

“i’ve liked you since i was a cringe middle schooler and i avoided you for months once i realized because i didn’t want to look at you knowing you don’t feel the same.” you take a deep shuddering breath, it takes so much work to not cry. “and now you’re going away and i’m being so unfair because here i am telling you i’ll miss you when…you were right here.”

he’s rendered speechless. you run back into the house and sae doesn’t run after you or even say anything. he doesn’t even text you. you spend the rest of summer buried within your sheets, mouth dry and heart battered and bleeding so profusely, you have no idea how to even begin fixing it. 

it takes you one year, six months and 15 days to get over the hurt of sae’s silent rejection. you’re aware you put him in a difficult position, and you weren’t expecting him to return your feelings or anything, but you did want him to say something.

you felt like a bumbling idiot throwing up your feelings all over sae’s expensive shoes, cutting yourself open just so he could see how your heart really only beats for him, only for him to turn away. only for him to leave you in silence, with nothing but the deafening sounds of your own heartbreak.

he’s made you a bit bitter towards love—making you scoff during valentine’s day and making you wince during white day but it’s only a front to hide the fact that deep down, you’re still hurting. you might have cleaned up the blood and erased the stains, but the wounds still remain, refusing to scab over and disappear altogether. 

you told rin what you did a week after sae left. he’s shit at comforting people but he took you back to the 7-11 that’s super far from your school and bought you the same bribery chips and told you that sae really didn’t deserve you. 

you wish you could make yourself believe it but you’ve found that you’ll always hold a soft spot for sae, even if most of your memories of him are buried under the immense aching of missing him and loving him.

you wait until your final day of your final year of high school to delete sae’s number off your phone. maybe he might text, you think, maybe he might congratulate you on graduating. anything from him would soothe the soreness in your chest. 

he doesn’t text and you delete his number with the hopes of forgetting him.

you and rin go to different universities, but you keep in touch. it’s easy to do that with someone who actually wants to keep talking to you. you haven’t seen or heard from sae in a while—almost three years to be exact. 

thinking of him doesn’t send a pang of something painful piercing through your heart anymore. instead, he’s more like a dull ache that settles within your stomach, remnants of a time when the sound of his name stung and thoughts of him sliced and drew blood. 

it’s a bit pathetic that you’re still kind of in love with the same guy, someone you fell for in middle school when your taste in men is supposed to be god awful. it’s disappointing that you never went through major character development in uni (not enough to finally squash your feelings for sae). 

sae wasn’t home for winter break, so you don’t expect him around for spring break either. he probably isn’t home, so you shouldn’t make a big deal out of handing over these brownies and that card. it’s just a simple transaction.

you reason with yourself for a few seconds more, fingers crossed that mrs. itoshi won’t ask if you’re keeping in touch with sae because you can’t bear to tell her you haven’t spoken to him in three years. 

silently hoping rin opens the door, you go to knock when the stairs to the front porch creak and you spin around, careful with the tin in your hands. 

it’s sae—the itoshi sae, staring at you with his head tilted and something foreign in those emerald eyes. 

maybe if you look hard enough, you can see yourself reflected in the darkness of his pupils but you don’t want to look at him like that. not anymore, anyway.

you don’t know what to say, you ran out of things to say to him the moment you told him how you felt three years ago. there’s not much more to share, there’s not much more you want to share either. 

your heart still clenches when you remember how hard you worked to get over the hurt, to clean up the blood. they’re like phantom pains, making the muscles of your chest tighten. but they can’t exactly be phantom pains if the wounds are still alive and well.

sae shoves his hands into his pockets, stepping up onto the porch and walking closer to you. the smell of his cologne invades your senses and you fix your gaze onto the lid of your tin, not wanting to look at him.

“why were you just standing in front of our house?”

you sigh, hoping he didn’t catch you pacing. “i was going to knock just now. you startled me.”

he reaches over you to knock on the door and mrs. itoshi opens the door. you hope you can hand over the things and rush out of this awkward situation but she ushers you in, along with her son, and insists you stay for lunch. 

you have no idea how to say no to her, so you say yes and stand awkwardly in the living room while sae sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone. the atmosphere is tense—it’s painfully obvious that there are unresolved problems between you both. you don’t want to be the one to bring them up, it’s no longer your responsibility. 

you eye him carefully, studying his lidded gaze and the bored frown on his face. the angles of his face have remained basically the same, though you think he’s built more muscle over the years you haven’t seen him. you know sae’s still playing soccer, much like rin, and you know he’s pursuing a career in it. 

all this you learned from the news or your mom after she speaks with mrs. itoshi—sae is a soccer prodigy or something like that. you don’t really care about the logistics of the sport, you only care about him.

he looks up abruptly, catching your analyzing stare and it makes your breath hitch momentarily before you look away, turning your attention elsewhere. 

this goes on for a few moments more, you letting your gaze wander back to sae, letting yourself indulge in the sharp angles of his face and jaw until he catches you, and then you’re tearing away from him to pretend like you were never looking in the first place.

it’s sickening and you long for the familiarity you once had with him.

every once in a while, you find yourself wandering back to that night you went camping (the only time you’ve ever gone) and every part of you yearns to go back—to be able to stand in the middle of the woods in the dead of night, staring up at the stars with sae standing by your side. 

it always reminds you that you’re not fully over him, your love for sae pulling at your hair like an annoying kid. you wish you could swat him away.

you pull yourself from your reverie just in time to find him looking at you, his phone abandoned by his side. you fight the urge to focus on anything but him, squinting your eyes at his unrelenting stare. 

he doesn’t look away. you huff and cross your arms, but you won’t look away either. 

you don't last as long as you hoped. looking at sae hurts. 

he's 20 now, and you're 18 (almost 19 in a few months) and he's still giving you that same silence even when it's obvious he has something to say.  

simply being around him is digging up everything you worked hard to bury away, dredging up years of old feelings and memories and naive love and you wish he could see into your mind so he'd understand how much of him still lingers in the corners.

you clench your jaw, hardening your stare as you decide this staring contest is utterly pointless when sae sighs, resigned.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear but still so quiet, you wonder if you heard him right. 

"why-" you begin but he cuts you off, standing up and you follow suit. 

"i'm sorry for not saying anything to you that day," he clarifies, and his voice is somewhat raspy, slightly deeper and it makes your knees feel weak. 

"i'm sorry for never calling or texting and i'm-" he takes a breath, as if to consider his next words, "sorry."

sae isn't good with apologies. you figured that out the day he knocked you off your bike when you were nine, making you scrape your knee in the process. you wailed about it for hours and sae simply gave you a 'sorry that happened.' and that was that.

he bought you a strawberry flavored chapstick after that—a better peace offering.

you still think he's shit with apologies, but this one warms your heart a little.

"you don't have to apologize for that," you reply, laughing to ease the awkwardness. "you don't feel the same, and that's fine. i bombarded you the day you left—it wasn't fair to you."

you hope he doesn't dwell on the fact that you said 'don't feel the same' as opposed to 'didn't feel the same' because you do still like him (as pathetic as that may be).

but this is itoshi sae and he notices everything. at least, he notices everything about you.

when you first started avoiding him in the halls, he noticed, but he didn't say anything. when you started taking the long way to leave the school, he noticed, but he kept his mouth shut because he figured there was a good reason for it. 

when you stopped coming around as often, declining invitations to hang out, he noticed. sae didn't know what he did but he didn't like it and he missed you then, missed your face and your voice and the way you used to roll your eyes at his dry remarks. 

the day he was leaving for university, he was so surprised to find you in front of him, he almost didn't notice the nerves lighting up your eyes and making your hands shake.

then came your confession—a mess of words and feelings and so very genuine—it knocked the air out of his lungs. he didn't know what to say, couldn't come up with something good enough so he resorted to silence.

he started regretting that the moment you turned away from him. 

he didn't think he'd miss you like he did—didn't think he'd still hold onto whatever memories he had of you stored away in his mind. but now he's 20 and he's seated on the couch that you and him grew up watching TV on and he doesn't think there's anyone else in this world that could make him feel the way you do. 

sae has a lot of regrets about the way things went with you. mainly, regrets about how he handled it, about how he didn't text you or call you. you deserve better and he knows rin has probably hammered that into you but he hopes you haven't fully come around to believing it yet.

it's selfish of him, and he knows that, but he wants you more than he's ever wanted you. 

he’s been silent for so long, you start to wonder if this is the end of this conversation, but then he’s stepping forward, hand grasping your wrist. “do you still feel the same way?”

out of all questions, this was the last one you were expecting. his touch burns, smoldering against your skin and you really don’t know if you want to be honest with him—not when there’s so much uncertainty surrounding him. 

sae drags you closer, chest pressed flush against his own, emerald peering into your own wavering stare. for a moment he seems just like you: full of yearning and desire and the fact that his heavy gaze is settled on you makes something stir in the pit of your stomach. 

something twists around your heart, tighter and tighter, until you can’t help but be honest. “i do. i feel the same way.” admitting it feels like an immense weight lifted off your shoulders, even if he doesn’t feel the same.

sae doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t do anything but stare for a few seconds. 

“i always returned your feelings,” he replies, voice just a hitch above a whisper, only meant for you to hear. 

“then, why didn’t you tell me that?”

he shakes his head then, “wouldn’t have been fair to you. i was leaving and we’d be so far apart–”

“you didn’t even call me,” you remind him, frowning, suddenly wanting to twist out of his embrace. “not even during graduation.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” he says again, so soft with you like that time you went camping. you almost wish you were under the stars once more, instead of standing in his living room. “i made some fucked up decisions.

“but the way i feel about you has never changed.”

you let out a shuddering breath. sae brings your hand to his face, pressing a chaste kiss to your palm, staring at you through the fan of lashes. “i’ll take whatever you give, as long as you’ll have me—if you still want me, that is.’

you wrench your hand away from his and he falters, but you step forward and grab that thin silver chain he’s still wearing and you close the distance between you both, pressing your lips to his because it’s the only thing on your mind. 

you take him in like he’s oxygen, his hands firmly planted on your waist, sliding down to your hips; he takes your breath away. sae has this impossible need to have you closer, close enough so that it becomes impossible to tell where he ends and where you begin. he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, teeth nipping at your bottom lip but he turns soft immediately after as if to soothe the slight sting. 

you taste like strawberry—like that chapstick he bought you years ago. sae feels electric and warm and the feeling of him bursts like fireworks within your chest. sae feels like years and years of loving in silence, like shared moments hidden away from prying eyes, like staring up at the stars in the middle of the woods in the dead of night. 

you pull away and hide your face in the crook of his neck, feeling his chest vibrate as he laughs softly. sae places a hand against the small of your back.

“i really missed you,” he says, his breath warm against your ear. 

sae feels like reuniting with your other half—destined in the stars. “i missed you too.”

what even was this i just stopped studying for finals + decided i HAD to write for sae like....