Forty Winks | K. Shirabu

┗ 𝘍𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘛𝘏 𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘒

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𝘍𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘛𝘏 𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘒:

— you can't understand me.

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The gnashing of concrete against the soles of their shoes consumed the stillness between the two individuals. Luminescent rays from the night sky deluged their skin; its radiance making it seem as though they were scintillating under its embrace.

Less cloud occupied the heavens. Like human beings that surrended to rage, all of them were so spread apart. Yet, a touch is enough to dissolve the individuality they possess. Despite of their diversity, they were uniform - as though coming from one plump of cotton. Yui wondered what would happen if she reached out and touched it, if she blew two clouds that were so far away from each other and lead them together.

Will it not work?

Will it unify, break before they join hands, or ruin each other upon contact?

She badly desired the answer; not in the case of clouds but for human beings.

"I want to live, Kenjirou."

"Don't make it sound like you're dying."

The female laughed, face perceived to be genuinely entertained. Her fingers locked behind her back with her scrutiny upon anything she can see. She then tucked a few strand of her hair to the back of her ear - its dark blue highlights more noticeable under the moonlight's consent. From the corner of his eyes, he glanced - not exactly portraying any vivid emotion.

It was a distant thought;

To Shirabu, the moon had its favourite.

"Not in a literal sense, dummy." She looked at him for a few seconds after feeling his gaze. Their eyes met as if it was the first time and she could honestly cherish it for a lifetime.

"You can live the way you want to."

"I know." The corners of her lips whipped upwards, "I'm doing that, you know."

She felt his eyes pierce her soul again. This time, she couldn't return it. She knew what was about to come.

"Then, why bother joining the volleyball club?"

Shirabu pursed his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants nonchalantly. He heard the way her breath got caught in her throat before she coughed to loosen up from the question.

The absence of sound from her returned. Most queries make her feel uneasy; she didn't like the way she couldn't answer.

Nevertheless, he let her gather her words.

The dorms came into perspective and they both concluded that the stroll was about to last. Thinking he won't be receiving a reply for today, he let the question go unanswered.

It was odd to look at, but they were walking approximately 2 meters apart. There was no rule nor spoken argument; that is just how it came to be. None of them even voiced anything out in opposition.

In the middle of it all, he heard her mumble. It was soft and certain - like the clouds that settled over the two of them.

"I wanted to."

Shirabu let out a groan, displeasure seeping through the edge of his mouth. At this point, he was willing to believe a stranger more than her statement.

"You suck at lying, Yui. I know how badly you wanted to join the drama club in middle school."

"How dare you insult my skills." She chuckled rather frailly; one that lacked the essence of bliss. With one swift glance at the boy, she can tell how he just wanted to lie down and sleep for the rest of the night. Yui couldn't blame him; she ached to do the same. "Things don't work out the way I want to, but I still wanted to be with you."

"What?"

"I joined the club because I wanted to be with you."

He inhaled sharply, flabbergasted. He instinctively poured his attention to her - eyebrows raised and pupils widening by a fraction. "You chose me over your dreams, are you stupid?!

She smiled for the last time that night.

"Grace me with your wisdom. I realized that already. That's why I had to end whatever we had back then. Can you blame me though?"

She closed her eyes, allowing the clouds to move freely in her mind and diminish anything left of her thoughts.

"You were a better dream, Kenjirou. I was foolishly in love with you."

In the end, he was the one who couldn't come up with a reply.

It was the first time he heard from her that she loved him

and no one expected the first to hurt.