#yumeno kyusaky x reader

[lucid-jun]

Empty Vase

Yumeno has trouble sleeping, Chuuya tries to help.

!! tw !! : s3lf h@am & su!c!dal themes, v0mit, implied mental and physical ab*se, unintentional meal skipping, brief mention of alcohol 

The celling fan echoes throughout the room shamelessly, Yumeno, who spent the last half an hour tossing and turning between the polyester sheets, now listens to the monotonous creaking in defeat.

Their eyes don’t focus on anything in particular, pouncing from the vacant grey walls to the empty vase on the bedside table, the sheer amount of space left unoccupied in the room wouldn’t bother them on most nights, however, as of this moment, a certain restlessness was blooming at the pit of their stomach, slowly and agonizingly extending all the way to the top of their scalp. 

Their breathing is uneven and a suffocating sensation seems to have its grip on their esophagus, still, for the most part, they manage to distract themselves, rocking back and forth in an attempt to lull their mind back to sleep, they were tired after all. Very tired. And a proper thoughtless slumber was quite tempting during times like these.

But somewhere deep within them, they longed for something more permanent. A kind of rest that wouldn’t need them to wake up again, the idea of breaking free from the mafia’s choking hold was intoxicating yet, for whatever reason, they were still here, still alive.

 Perhaps because there were a plenty of other things they longed for, like the red velvet ice cream in the parlor downtown, or the tiny walks to the park Chuuya would take them on occasionally, the annual mafia picnic where they would sit beside Gin, Kajii and Tachihara, watching the latter two bicker back and forth, and not to forget, those rare moments when Kouyou would ruffle their hair and give them an endearing smile. All these occurrences that pile on top of each other ease their discomfort temporarily. 

Then, a string of memories revives itself all too quickly, Dazai’s spite filled eyes staring right into their torn soul, Mori’s venomous tongue slithering and hissing next to their ears, all the times they were curled up on the floor, wheezing in pain because they failed to please the boss. 

There was also the constant burning and throbbing, the cuts which itched unforgivingly and even then, they had no choice but to wrap the damned barbed wire around their frail arms and wrists. They could feel bile rising up their throat, their mouth swelling slightly as they covered their lips and swallowed in an effort to keep their dinner down.

Dinner. 

On second thought, had they even eaten dinner tonight? When was the last time they ate? Was it this afternoon when they hastily chomped down on all the mini strawberry Kit-Kats in the pantry? They couldn’t really tell. Either way, they weren’t feeling too great, the nausea amplifying itself by the second. They felt as though they were all over the place, inside out and vulnerable, their trembling now evidently worsening.

 If they were to be completely honest, they weren’t even sure what they were thinking about at this point. Everything just sort of mushed together and created this Frankenstein of a spiral and they kept falling and falling and falling. 

Unable to hold themselves back any longer, Yumeno rushes over to the bin which is stationed at the corner of the lifeless room, hovering above it and retching rather violently, gagging on the taste of acid that lingers in their mouth moments after they’re finished. 

Sighing heavily, they allow their body to grow limp and drop down on the floor, irritated by how their t-shirt is drenched in cold sweat, stubbornly sticking to their back, but they're too exhausted to change. 

There’s a knock on the door that initially goes unnoticed, only heard when it rings in their ears twice as loud as before, they don’t know what time it is, sluggishly picking themselves up and dragging their feet, hesitantly twisting the doorknob.

 A messy mop of orange pokes through the crack, Yumeno rubs their eyes, adjusting to the light seeping into the room from the hallway, “You alright?”, an equally, if not more, exhausted Chuuya speaks, his breath reeking of alcohol and mint, not knowing what to say, the younger simply shrugs. Chuuya opens the door further, standing still for a while before inviting himself in, “It’s 2 AM, why are you still awake?” The morbid scent of puke reaches his nose and his face momentarily scrunches up, “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

The silence is sickening and it weighs on his heart. Even though there really is no special bond between the two of them, Chuuya still does his best to look after Yumeno, because they’re young, because they had no other choice than to walk this rotten path, because he knows there is a lot hidden beneath the face they show. In return, Yumeno doesn’t protest, they don’t whine when Chuuya practically carries them to dinner, they don’t cry when he visits after most missions, rubbing their wounds with disinfectant, and when the single, barely audible, word of gratitude leaves them, Chuuya nods. 

“Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” He asks, and they know it’s partly because he’s worried and partly because he’s trying to escape from his own demons. So they whisper a tiny “Okay.” And Chuuya cracks the window open for a bit, in hopes of the stuffiness reducing. He then walks over to the pile of clothes that’s decked up on a rolling chair, grabbing what he guesses is a clean t-shirt,  cleaner than the one they had on right now anyways. “Change.” He says, before turning around and flopping himself on the bed, Yumeno does so with considerable difficulty, leaving the soiled clothing on the floor and crawling next to him. 

They don’t hold each other, they don’t even face each other, both stuck on respective sides of the bed which isn’t quite the perfect fit, but they manage. Neither of them catch a wink of sleep, but there’s a sense of tranquility that envelopes them. 

There are so many things Yumeno wants to say to him, reassure him and tell him how much they appreciate him and look up to him, but they don’t. They’re not sure if they have the right. Especially not after the incident with the Guild that left a crushing gap between them and other members of the mafia.

This melancholy that gracefully draped itself all over them left them unable to move. And they could do nothing but curse their own existence, the same goes for Chuuya, plus there was the added agitation of trying to get over the things that happened in the past.  

Well, whatever it may be, Yumeno can’t complain and they don’t want to either, blankly staring at the empty vase in front of them, they take solace, albeit in a messed up way, in knowing that when the first rays of the sun will hit the ground, the vase will still be empty.

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that was it ! i really like yumeno as a character and i want to see more of them, this was inspired by that one picture of chuuya giving a piggy back ride to yumeno :") ahh this is my first fic and it's kinda short but i hope u like it !!

see u next time :D

#yumeno kyusaku #yumeno kyusaku imagine #Q bungou stary dogs #bsd yumeno #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagine #yumeno kyusaky x reader #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya imagine #chuuya nakahara imagine #chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #chuuya bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya being a good brother #yumeno needs a hug #ff