difficult
★ synopsis: it’s something he tries not to be.
★ character(s): sakusa kiyoomi
★ minty’s notes: i had this one in my draft and i forgot about it. got some inspiration so i finished it, i hope it makes sense <3
sakusa kiyoomi is a difficult person.
he’s not the pickiest eater, but he has his habits—like how he wants his rice bowl to always be on the right side of the tray, or how he has to eat three pickled plums before starting cleaning his room on saturdays or his mood is ruined and he can’t do anything. however, he’s picked up other healthier habits that make these little ticks harmless. sometimes he even forgets about the pickled plums completely and just goes on with the tidying up.
he’s not the best with words—but he’s a great listener and will offer his input on your problem if you ask him to. it’s a personal opinion that’s quite subjective, but it’s still appreciated because of his brutal honesty.
he likes to do things methodically, after a certain pattern—he will, however, stray from the set path if he thinks it’s too boring or not flexible enough to accomodate unpredicted events.
he’s straightforward with his thoughts—he doesn’t see the need to sugarcoat things for the sake of convenience. if he has something to say, he’ll say it. that doesn’t mean he won’t consider the consequences—he just values his concerns being addressed more than what happens after he voices them.
he isolates himself—when everything seems to be too overwhelming for him and it threatens to come crashing down on his head, he hides. he knows it’s petty and childish, but it’s a way of coping. it’s better than not coping at all. if he cannot isolate, he distances and does other activities to block out the noise and situation.
he complains a lot—nothing really fits his taste, no matter what the topic at hand is. complaining helps him relieve the stress of bottling up his emotions—it’s usually him rambling to himself, since nobody seems to want to listen to him.
there are many things that make sakusa kiyoomi difficult. many of them seem silly, childish even—not even a 3 year old would behave like him—but he supposes that some things cannot be changed. indeed, some things cannot be changed, as they are usually gifts from nature—like his hypermobile wrists—yet he seems to change little by little from the moment he meets you.
it’s like he doesn’t want to disappoint you. what would you think of his weird habits? he tones them down as much as he can, with broken remnants scattered on the floor of his heart as he tries his hardest to become ‘normal’. this is what love does to you, sakusa thinks. this is what love makes you do for another person.
why does love not make you do so many things for yourself?
coincidentally, it’s a question he blurts out randomly on a sunny afternoon, you and him and his cousin eating homemade ice-cream on the porch of his house. it’s quiet, peaceful, a little hot. april, maybe? he doesn’t remember. komori stops eating, scratching his chin in deep thought and you laugh—thousands of chimes swaying in the wind—which makes kiyoomi’s heart burn.
“maybe because the love we have for ourselves is never as strong as the love for another,” you answer cheerfully, but your eyes betray the little spark of doubt barely noticeable in your voice. “and i think we shouldn’t do that. we shouldn’t love someone else more than we love ourselves.”
it’s the same day that sakusa learns of your habit to pick at your fingers whenever you're nervous, or how you start swaying back and forth when you’re sitting on the floor, legs folded under you, or how your lips jut into a pout whenever you think very hard about something. they’re little things that he notices—and you don’t—that he thinks are beautiful. they’re part of you, aren’t they? why would you be ashamed of them?
“if i shouldn’t, why should you?” you retort to his little monologue (that he realizes he said out loud) and place your hand over his. “you’re very pretty, sakusa. inside and out, y’know.”
“kiyoomi,” he corrects, scratching the tip of his nose—he’s a little bashful. you smile at the gesture and squeeze his palm.
“kiyoomi,” you repeat, trying the name and rolling it on your tongue as you slightly tilt your head to the right. “nice name for a nice person.”
“you think—” he hesitates for a second, “you think i’m nice?”
“of course. i wouldn’t be your friend if you weren’t,” you explain and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat. “besides, we have the same tick.” he’s confused for a second, until he sees you scratching the tip of your nose—your cheeks are flushed and your ears reddened to a beautiful crimson color. his heart leaps back and forth from his chest to his stomach to his throat and back in his chest, thrumming wildly.
“and you don’t think i’m difficult?” he asks cautiously. this is a sensitive topic and he’d rather walk around the eggshells than step on them. you shake your head with a sigh.
“of course you are,” his heart stops for a second, “but that doesn’t make you less lovable.”
there’s a comfortable silence enveloping you as you watch the cherry blossoms fall gently. you hold sakusa’s heart in your hands, cradling it carefully—it’s nothing more than a globe of glass, hidden underneath a layer of ice. with a kiss, the ice melts completely and you watch the boy exhale a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
“hey, kiyoomi,” you grin and his pretty obsidian curls swish in time with his head, onyx eyes focusing intently on you. “i love you, did you know that? difficult and all. because we’re all difficult in our own way.”
sakusa feels his facial muscles move against his will, a smile blooming on his face that could rival the shining summer sun. “thank you,” he breathes, taking in your loving expression. he doesn’t know exactly why he thanks you or what prompted him to choose these words, but you get the message even if he can’t articulate it properly. “i love you too,” he whispers, forehead pressed on yours.
sakusa kiyoomi is a difficult person—but so are you. and so is every other human on the planet—because humans are complex and complicated. in that complexity, you can find love. it’s woven between worries, plastered over a bad memory, sewn next to hope.
sakusa kiyoomi is a difficult person, but that won’t stop you from loving him.
taglist (send an ask/dm to be added/removed): @nakizumie; @lovelytarou; @risjime; @kirakirasaku; @izhyperfixates; @tsumooo;
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sakusa x gn!reader
sakusa pouts as you coat your lips with lip balm, running the stick over your top, then your bottom lip, over and over. he watches the stick go from left to right almost resentfully, but still entranced nonetheless. you can sense his stare on you in the back of your mind, but you're too preoccupied, focusing on the task at hand.
he huffs when you still haven't put the lip balm away five seconds later. he's being dramatic, he knows. but it's for good reason.
"don't you think you've put enough?" he practically mumbles out aggressively, "maybe even too much?"
that makes you pause, your hand in the air, lip balm still on your lip. you look over at him questioningly and hesitantly. "...what?" you put the cap on and put it away, slowly rubbing your lips together.
his eyes catch on the movement of your lips and he gets temporarily distracted before he sighs and bites the inside of his cheek almost sheepishly as he looks to the side.
you tilt your head, eyes scanning over him as you try to figure him out. "you don't like when i put on lip balm?"
he shakes his head, like a child and you can't help but find it cute.
"why not?"
he hesitates for a few seconds before speaking up. "cause you don't let me kiss you till it dries off."
when he glances over and notices the smile growing on your lips, he clenches his jaw and crosses his arms, looking even more like a small child that didn't get their way.
you scoot closer to him and coo, "aww omi––" his shoulders sag and you can tell he regrets ever opening his mouth. "tell you what, i'll give you a free pass this time, kay?"
he hates himself for this, but your words make him perk up immediately, he's that whipped for you.
he tries to appear nonchalant as he turns to you, eyes flitting up to yours as he uncrosses his arms at the soft touch of your hand, urging them open.
he may be completely whipped for you, but as you press your lips against his and let out a content sigh, sinking further into him, one hand on his shoulder, the other in his curls, he realizes he doesn't care one bit. he slides an arm around your waist and tugs you closer. if he's only getting one kiss, he's gonna make it count.
LEAVE A TIP <3 (if you’d like)
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