☻Douma x Kokushiboʕ•̫͡•ʔ

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A/N: inspired by a fanfic on AO3 First person btw, in Kokushibo's pov. Slight human au. Very short, only 472 words.

I remember the first time we met.

Your hand was dripping red, back then. You and I weren't ourselves, back then.

You were crying in the corner, and there was blood all over your hand. I walked over to you, and you looked up at me. You didn't stop crying.

I helped you bandage the wound on your arm, wrapping the cloth tightly around you. You were still weeping. Then I hugged you, and said everything would be okay, and you stopped crying.

My parents didn't like it. They said I shouldn't be around weak people who can't defend themselves and cry. I didn't care. Just like you didn't care that your parents said they didn't like you very much.

As we got older, we became friends. You were my first true friend. 

And my last.

I don't remember having any other true friends, but maybe I did. You must have been the best one, since I still can picture your smile.

And when you had a cracked rib, you were calling out on the street for me. "Michikatsu! Michikatsu, it hurts. It hurts!" It was the first time you'd called me by my name. 

I know it hurts. I knew.

The blood washed off, but the scar stayed.

I remember the time you helped me. I was crying this time, and I think my leg was hurting a lot. You came over to me. I think you looked worried as I cried, and you started crying because you didn't know how to help. You gave me a hug. Then you fell asleep on my shoulder, the tears staining your pale cheeks. 

That helped me more than any medicine I've ever taken, your hug. There was always something special about you.

And I remember when we were teenagers. We'd known each other for a decade now, and you were still my friend. We had so many problems. Not with each other, but with others and family.

Mine wanted my brother to become the samurai now, and yours always demanded you be a little obedient puppet. 

But we didn't care, and we did what we wanted. 

And that's why I went into your room when you were crying, and you collapsed onto my lap and sobbed. You looked at me, and you appeared so lonely, so desperate for comfort, that I felt myself breaking too. 

So I kissed you, tears falling down both of our cheeks and mixing into the salty kiss. Then I pulled away, and you smiled. Then your beautiful smile vanished, and I broke more.

"Are you going to leave?"

And you sounded more broken then I felt, and my four walls I protected myself with fell, and I hugged and kissed you until you were convinced.

I loved you then.

I hope you remember.

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