Yandere! Yu Ijin x Reader
"I wanted to do so much more. I should have done more."
The simplicity of life, the cycle of death that was often overlooked by the masses as they focus on the future and the past, forgetting the present that they live in...
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Tw: mentions of sh .
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How long has it been since he saw her? He wasn't entirely sure. With the both of them being in different divisions, he could only see her late at night where they lay under the tree which became their designated spot.
Her arms had been something he couldn't live without. The gentle way she held him as if he was made out of glass, that type of gentle love that he didn't even know he was craving for.
It's one of those nights, where he had been terrorized by reaccuring nightmares of the lifes he had took whilst in service. He showed no distress in his expression, but one could not miss the slight tremble in his fingers. Discarding any rational thoughts, he sought after you in any place he could think of.
After rushing around the base, he found you sitting quietly near a lake, and he did not hesitate on rushing over and hugging you tightly. His strong arms wrapped itself around your waist and he snuggled himself in your neck to imprint your scent into his memory. You were startled by the sudden hug, but when you notice the tremble in his arms, you gently pried him off to settle him into a much more comfortable position as you wrap your hands around him gently. Your touch had never failed on comforting him during his worst moments, and until now you still have the same effect on him from years ago.
He wondered if you were some type of gift that God had given to him for living such a life.
And as you continued on your affection, he felt as if he was truly the luckiest man alive. He dug his nails into your arm, yet with the same gentle kindness, you only brought him closer.
He felt as if he was intoxicated with the love you had given him.
He closed his eyes, and he remembers.
He remembered the day he killed those innocent civillians, the day he killed a mother and her daughter. He remembers the day he played God and took the life of others.
Yet who are supposed to be blamed? He had never asked for this life.
If you had asked him, he would tell you his ideal life was to be somewhere secluded with you—a town that specialized in the harvest of crops, a quiet life in a flower field, a life of no war. A life full of love with you by his side, to die peacefully because he was old, not to die because he risked his life in the battlefield.
That was the life he had hoped for, a life he had wished for.
He wished for a life where he could feel your gentle touch as you guide him to be someone he wished he was to be.
"I want to get out of here." He mumbled, and you hummed gently.
"Get out of where?" You pried, taking his face onto your arms and letting your noses touch eachother.
