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awlumii · 2 years

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These past few days had been, for the lack of a better word, shit.

It felt like you were being dragged along a street by the scruff of your neck, and getting not a single moment’s release. Stress pressed down on you from all sides, heavy and suffocating as it seemed to cage you in a little box of helplessness. Responsibilities, deadlines, due assignments; they hounded your mind and preyed upon your energy, draining you and draining you until nothing remained. When you looked around you, a world that had once been full of vibrant colour appeared grey and dull, and the sun was either harsh in how it beat down on you or not there at all.

(Hell, even picking your feet up to walk took effort recently.)

Your mind was like a floodgate, and the dam was on the verge of breaking.

You were just… tired. So, so tired, and you needed a break. From your responsibilities, from your thoughts— from existing. Just for a moment.

But as long as life kept tossing you around in its cruel hands like a discarded plaything, that was impossible.

And it seemed that life had only just begun its game.

The last straw came when you had an argument with your close friend about a group project you were working on. The deadline was fast approaching, and you weren’t anywhere near finishing.

“Can you do six on Sunday, then?” you asked, voice growing heavier with each suggestion you made.

Your friend shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t do that one either. I have to babysit my brother,” he explained. You flared with annoyance.

“This is the only other time we’re all free,” you hissed. “Can you not get someone else to look after him? Just this once?”

He shook his head. “My brother’s a handful. I don’t think anyone else could deal with him.”

I swear to fucking god. “Are you just trying to avoid doing the project?” you jabbed at him. “Because it really seems to me like you’re pulling every possible excuse out your ass by this point.”

Your friend frowned. “What? No, of course not.”

“Then why can’t you spare even an hour to work on it?” Your voice was beginning to rise.

“I’ve told you; I have a busy schedule. I don’t have the time.”

“My schedule’s pretty much as packed as yours, but I’m still making time to get this done. Why can’t you?” Before he could answer, however, you threw in another jab. “You had time earlier in the month,” you pointed out. Your patience was running thin. “And you seemed to be doing just fine then. Not that you did any actual work, of course; you just sat there while we did all the research, and all the planning, and every single other thing.”

His mouth fell open. “Now hang on a minute. What do you mean I didn’t do any work? I did a whole page of research before someone,” he shot you a glare filled with venom, “decided that it wasn’t ‘essential’ and that we should ‘focus our time on more relevant topics’.”

You flushed with anger at his words. “And when you got upset about it, who did all the replacement work to make up for it?”

“You know what?” Your friend threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. If you’re so adamant on convincing me that I’m useless, that’s fine. I’ll leave you guys to do everything.”

“What? No, that’s not what I—“

“Sorry, I have to go now,” he cut you off, already walking away. With a sneer, he called over his shoulder, “I have a brother to babysit!”

You stood alone in the corridor, fuming. Your fists clenched and unclenched by your side.

Shit. You were never going to get this project finished. You couldn’t wait for yet another lecture form another professor about how they ‘expected more from you’ and were ‘let down by you’ because you ‘didn’t put enough effort in’. You were the only person putting in effort these days, and yet somehow you were always everyone’s punching bag.

You mentally listed all the things you wouldn’t get done: this project, that essay that’s due the day after tomorrow, that application form for your job, meeting another friend to hang out because you’d be up to your nose in work— oh, and that test in Friday which you hadn’t revised for.

I can’t do this.

There was just… so much to get done, so many expectations to live up to, deadlines to meet, friends to make time for, all the while trying to keep up the image that you were okay and managing to everyone— specifically Kazuha— and you could feel yourself crumbling under the pressure.

You hadn’t noticed that your eyes were stinging until something wet fell onto your cheek.

Maybe you should just give up. Not just on the project; on all of it. Nobody cared about the effort you were putting in, so why should you even bother in the first place? You clearly weren’t good enough for their time.

Maybe you should abandon all your projects and just see what happens. Let the world do its worst and deal with the consequences later.

You just needed to leave for a bit. Take a break. Just for a moment, one single moment, you needed to give up.

——————

It was raining when he found you.

You were standing on the street corner, absolutely still. Your eyes were fixed on the floor. Your clothes were long since soaked through, but you seemed to not notice the sheets of rain pounding down on your skin.

He called your name, but still you stood there, unmoving.

Wait, no— you weren’t unmoving. Not exactly. You were shaking.

Kazuha sprinted over to you, umbrella in hand, his footsteps falling into puddles of rainwater. He muttered internal curses for not seeing this earlier. He should’ve known. You had clearly been feeling down over the last week or so— that much had been obvious— but the extent of these feelings you must have hidden well.

He reached you and took your hand in his, thumb stroking the back of your rain-soaked palm. You stiffened almost immediately, as if you had not noticed his presence until the physical contact had been made. You quickly pulled your hand away and instead used it to ferociously rub at your cheeks. When you turned to face him, it was with a forced smile, and Kazuha could not help but notice the red rims around your eyes.

“Kazuha! I didn’t see you there,” you said with a sheepish laugh. He fought down the urge to wince at the joyfulness in your tone which rang so incredibly false.

“What’re you doing out here?” he asked, raising his umbrella to shield you from the rainy onslaught. The sound of falling raindrops tapped against the fabric, slightly muffled.

You were silent for a long moment, and when you could not come up with an answer, you only smiled at him again.

But it wasn’t a smile. Not the smile he knew, anyways. In your eyes, he could only see blankness and the remnants of tears.

“Let’s get you inside,” he coaxed gently, deciding to change his course of action. “You’ll catch a cold like this, you know.”

“Yeah, I… I know,” you sighed, deflating a little. Kazuha held out his hand to you, and only after a long, long pause— far too long for his liking— did you take it. He smiled at you, his eyes warm and kind; so kind that, for a second, you almost wanted to tell him everything that had happened and all you had been hiding from him right then and there. Almost.

As you walked, countless thoughts and questions flooded your mind, ceaseless in their bombardment.

Was it wrong of you to be lying to him like this? Pretending that you’re okay to keep him from worrying about you? Were you an awful person for hiding from him when he placed so much of his faith in you?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him with your issues, either. These were your problems to deal with, not his, and it would be so selfish of you to expect him to bear the weight of them on his own shoulders, too. If you could just get through all this by yourself without him finding out, all the better. That was possible, right?

Kazuha noticed the furrow in your brows and strain in your gaze as you walked. Though he could not tell your exact thoughts, he had a clear idea of what they may be, and that idea brought him no joy.

You arrived quickly at Kazuha’s place despite the driving rain, and immediately had yourself a hot shower and a change of clothes.

Before you left the bathroom, you drew our a long, heavy sigh. Going back out there, opening that door— it felt like entering a war zone. Not with Kazuha, but with yourself, and with the lie that you were doing fine. You forced a practiced smile onto your face.

(God, you were tired.)

Right. Here goes nothing.

You pushed open the door and stepped out into the apartment, ready for yet another round of fake-it-till-you-make-it. Not even sparing a look at Kazuha, afraid what would happen to your carefully crafted facade if you did, you made a beeline for the little sofa at the back of the room. It took all your strength not to simply collapse onto it altogether.

“Do you feel any better?” Kazuha asked, taking a place beside you. You nodded.

“Yeah,” was all you said. It was all you could bring yourself to say.

To be honest, you felt sick.

Kazuha hummed at your answer, the look on his face unreadable.

“Are you certain?” he asked after a second.

Another nod, another lie. You were getting good at this, you realised, and the mastery of your skill disgusted you.

Kazuha sighed and took your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing circles in your skin. He leaned forwards so that you could not look away from him, your eyes caught within his own.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, voice quiet. “Please.”

Your heart missed a beat. You froze. Your mind faltered, desperately searching for something— anything— to say. When you found nothing, you swallowed, but your throat was dry. Your mouth opened and closed silently, no words coming out.

Had you really been that easy to see through? Was Kazuha mad at you for lying to him now? If he was mad, could you really blame him?

A soft calling of your name reeled your spinning thoughts in, and you blinked. For some reason, the world looked blurry and unfocused, and your eyelashes felt wet when you shut them.

One of Kazuha’s hands came up to brush at your cheek, wiping the tears away with a feather-light touch. His other hand settled under your chin, and he gently angled your face towards him.

“Dove? What’s wrong?” His face was painted with concern, eyebrows drawn together in an expression of subtle worry. You shook your head, afraid that if you spoke, you would not be able to control the tears. Kazuha’s thumb ghosted back and forth over your skin, warm eyes gazing into yours and laced with a hint of desperation.

“You can talk to me.”

That was the moment everything shattered. Your walls fell in pieces around you, and the dam that had strained against a raging current cracked, broke, and crumbled.

And yet your voice came out as a whisper.

“Everything.”

You swallowed, despite the broken shards of glass in your throat. “Everything’s wrong. I just…” you trailed off, running a hand through your hair, and drew out a shaky sigh. “I can’t do this anymore, Kazuha.”

“What can’t you do?” he asked, his voice patient and calm in a direct opposition to your current state.

“This.” You gestured hopelessly in the air. “My responsibilities. My work. Existing.” Your voice began to break. “I’m so tired of it. All of it. And over the last few days… I just can’t. Catch. A break.”

Kazuha nodded solemnly, his lips pressed together in a line. He raised his eyes to meet yours. “Then tell me everything that’s happened,” he said gently, and god, did you want to.

But these weren’t his problems. These were yours.

You drew in a shaky breath. “It’s… it wouldn’t be worth your time. I don’t want to bore you.”

Kazuha shrugged. “I have time.”

And yet still you hesitated, though you didn’t know why. He knew something was up; so why were you still trying to pretend you were okay? Were you seriously so caught up in your lie that you’d fooled even yourself?

And for God’s sake, why was he being so nice about it? So kind to you? Was he not offended that you had hidden your thoughts from him? Did he not think you didn’t trust him and hate you for that fact? Shouldn’t he be mad or disappointed in you like everyone else was?

A knot began to twist in your stomach. Your head was swimming, breathing shallow, and your throat was closed as if you were being suffocated.

“Take your time,” Kazuha coaxed, the grounding presence in your hurricane. “If you aren’t comfortable talking about it at the moment, don’t push yourself. I’m here to listen whenever you need me.”

“No.”

Kazuha paused. “‘No’?” he repeated.

“No. I… I should tell you now, or I don’t know when I will.”

He smiled, and mouthed a Thank you. Then you sucked in a shaky breath, and told him everything.

You told him about the pressure you were under and the stress that held you in a chokehold, not once loosening its grip; you told him about the hateful thoughts that had been piling up on you lately, telling you how you weren’t good enough and never will be; you told him about how you were so, so tired and so, so done, and yet life was unwilling to give you a rest.

You told him about the argument the previous afternoon, and when your voice broke and tears ran unconstrained, Kazuha took you into his arms and held you close, his fingers combing through your hair and carefully untangling any knots with a feather’s touch. He held you closer when you began shaking like a leaf, arms tightening around you like a shield from the rest of the world, not once caring for the damp patches staining his clothes.

When you had finished talking, sobs replaced your words. Kazuha murmured words of affirmation in your ear; hushed I love yous and whispered compliments so soft that you almost mistook them for a passing breeze. He tilted your chin upwards and kissed away your tears, the backs of his fingers brushing your cheek and against your wet eyelashes. He pressed his lips to your eyelids and let the contact linger before guiding your head back to his shoulder, running his fingers up and down your neck and spine in a ghost touch that left tingles in its wake.

And when your tears subsided and your sobs were reduced to sniffles, he kissed the crown of your head and held you in silence.

Finally, you pulled away from his warmth, wiping away the wetness welling beneath your eyes, and cleared your throat.

“Sorry for being such a mess,” you mumbled, fixing your gaze on anywhere that wasn’t Kazuha’s own. “I… wasn’t supposed to get that out of hand.”

Kazuha raised his hand to cup your cheek in his palm and moved your face closer, so that your foreheads rested against each other’s and your noses almost touched.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he whispered. “I’m relieved that you told me what was on your mind, and there is no need to be sorry about it.”

“But I’m just dumping my issues onto you— issues I should be dealing with myself, not burdening you with,” you grumbled, eyes glancing away once again. “I… I don’t want to be a burden to you,” you muttered. Kazuha hummed in thought.

“Is this why you were so hesitant to tell me earlier?” he asked gently. You paused for a moment, then nodded your head shamefully. You were surprised to hear a quiet chuckle shake Kazuha’s shoulders.

“What?” you frowned, looking up at him.

Kazuha cleared his throat and mumbled an apology. “I just find it interesting that you think you could ever be a burden to me— and a little amusing, because you couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“…oh.” You hesitated. “Really?”

He nodded. “I will always be more than glad to listen to whatever you have to say. Receiving help from somebody is not akin to troubling them. And even if it were,” he paused, and smiled at you. “You would never be a burden to me, dove.”

You swallowed dryly. “So… you aren’t mad at me for lying to you?”

He shook his head. “If anything, I’m perhaps a little disappointed that I didn’t pick up on the gravity of your situation later, but that has more to do with me than with you. And…” he sighed, and this time, he was the one who looked away. In a quieter voice, he continued. “I know what it’s like to want to deal with your own hardships alone and keep them from bothering others.”

A silence fell upon you for a long moment. Kazuha’s eyes were solemn, and he seemed to be lost in thought. He drew in a breath, and finally met your eyes.

“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore. Because I have you,” he looked at you with a gaze warmer than summer, “And you have me.” He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “And no matter what happens, I will always be here to listen to you.”

You sighed in defeat. “Okay.”

Kazuha’s eyes crinkled with his smile.

“But.”

His smile faltered.

“If I’m going to trust you with my problems, the same has to be the case on your end, and you have to trust me with yours.” You tilted your head at him. “Do we have deal?”

Kazuha was silent for a second, before his shoulders sagged, and he smiled at you with a resolute nod.

“Deal.”

-🎻 anon

i read this as soon as i woke up and fucking cried. thank you for this, love 🥺💕

#[ 📭 — incoming! ]#🎻 anon #[ 💭 — thinking! ]#kazuha x reader #i'm literally in love with him #this seriously made me sob like

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