Akira Kurusu x Reader Oneshots

Tired

Inside (Y/N)'s consciousness, the sky turned a sickly shade of green, while the air felt humid and gross on the skin. Haru gasped quietly. Akira shuddered but pushed towards the door.

In the actual building, the school had transformed into a hospital. The walls were white and the floor made of pristine tile. The humidity was replaced with cold air as the vents blasted air at them. Yusuke shivered slightly. The strong smell of antiseptic wafted towards them, making Akira feel light-headed. "Wow." he stated, taking in the place as they ventured further in.

Upon reaching the stairs leading down to the second level, he glimpsed a white swath of cloth flutter around the corner of the stairs. "Stop!" he called out.

She returned to the top of the steps, staring down at them. It was her, there was no mistaking it.

"(Y/N)..." Akira breathed, hearing the former conversation die down, revealing to him just how silent it was in here. A vent somewhere in the place whirred, the sound filling his ears.

She stood before them, wearing a white hospital gown with a pattern of blue dots on it. A ratty teddy bear hung loosely from her hand as she stared down at them, eyes blank.

The others looked down at their clothes, expecting them to change. Surprisingly, their school uniforms stayed put. She gave them the same tired smile he saw earlier and began to walk down the stairs. Akira felt his team tense behind him, readying themselves for an attack. But she just stood in front of them and kept that same smile. "Didn't think I'd see you here..." Her voice was still raspy. "Hi."

Akira stepped forward, taking her hands in his. She flinched. "Why-"

"You're... touching me." she whispered, a note of awe in her voice.

A look of confusion took over Akira's face. "Of course, why wouldn't I-" (Y/N) suddenly yanked her hands away violently.

"You can't."

"What?" he reached for her hands again, but she moved them away, taking steps back. "Why?!"

She shook her head solemnly. "I have the plague. People don't want to get too close, or else they'll get it too." His confusion only deepened, showing on his face. She smiled softly. "I don't blame them. I wouldn't want to be near me either," she paused to gesture around herself lamely, "but... obviously there's no way to stop that... anyway, you guys should probably leave. It's for the best." she turned away.

Their clothes changed.

(Y/N) headed up the stairs soundlessly, not turning around despite Akira's protests.

~ time skip brought to you by uh oh ~

There she was. Sitting on the bench where they met for lunch. Akira inhaled deeply and exhaled. He could do this.

The team had decided that Akira would work on one end, while they worked on the other. He would break her walls down physically and they would win mentally. The idea was to make this go as smoothly and quickly as possible.

He walked over and eased himself down next to her. She smiled over at him. "Hey, you." she tried to joke. He didn't return the smile and she slowly began to frown in response. He felt another tug in his gut. She was making an effort for once and he hadn't helped. "What's wrong?"

"I'm worried about you."

He felt her tense up next to him. "O-Oh?" she started, "Well, there's no need to be." her smile grew but it was shaky. "See? I'm perfectly fine." It looked so forced. She was on the brink of tears.

Akira clasped her hand. "No. You're not." Their eyes met. "You're not some kind of disease," he started, knowing that keyword would strike a chord within her. Her smile dropped and her eyes widened. "People only avoid you because you're with me. They hate me, not you. You're perfect, you know that, right?" he implored, squeezing her hand.

Her expression broke and her eyes began to tear up. "Akira..."

He shook his head. "I won't stand for you beating yourself up about this. You're worthy and deserving of love, even if the people at school don't see that yet. Okay?" That should be all the pep-talk she needs, the team will do the rest of the work on the other end. He smiled reassuringly.

She nodded softly and leaned into him. He sighed, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her head. He stroked her back gently, "Tell me what you're thinking."

She gave a broken laugh. "How much I love you." she squeezed him tighter, burying her face into his chest. His shirt was slowly being stained with tears, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. "And-" (Y/N) cut herself off suddenly, her body going limp against his. He stumbled back from the sudden weight.

Akira's blood ran cold. "(Y/N)?" he shook her body. No response. "(Y/N)?!" she fell over onto the ground before he could catch her. Her body rolled over to face him, blood streaming from her eyes, mouth, and nose. Her body convulsed, like she was going to cough up more blood, but nothing else came. Her once-bright eyes were rolled back into her head. He jumped up, frightened and confused. His hands ran to her face, turning it over in his hands. He felt so utterly helpless. "Please," his voice broke, "(Y/N), stop it." What's going on?! "Stop it!" he cried.

Oh God, please don't let it be what I think it is. The thought ran through his head before he could stop it. He screwed his eyes shut, shoving it away.

A hand rested on Akira's shoulder, making him jump. He spun around to see Makoto and the others. "Guys?" he whispered, suddenly aware of the wetness on his face. His hand reached up and brushed away his tears hastily. He couldn't let his team see him in that state.

Makoto shook her head silently. He sucked in a breath, stopping himself from bursting into more tears. She was gone. The black masked intruder had gotten to her, and now she was dead. He turned back to her and the scene that met his eyes broke him. 

She laid on the ground, immobile, her limbs spread akimbo. Blood covered her face, some dripping onto the concrete below her.

He choked, salty tears flowing freely from his eyes. He felt his team's comforting presence behind him but he shook his head.

"Please go." he pleaded, knowing they would. He briefly heard a Ryuji protest but he was quieted quickly. He felt them leave without having to turn around. Once sure they were gone, his fingers felt for a pulse. Nothing. 

He bit his lip harshly, drawing blood of his own. His hand met her cheek, brushing it with his fingers tenderly, smearing the blood across her cold skin. 

His chest lurched forward, his hand jumped to his mouth, her blood mingling with his spit. 

He cried.

A/N: i do not know how to write angst? is it meant to be a long thing or a short thing? ack i need to start reading more sad stuff

anyway, thank you for requesting!