Captain Tsubasa One-Shots

✘ Calloused Hands [Genzo Wakabayashi]

[ the reader is female | third person ]

[ trigger warning | explicitly mentioned/referenced suicide attempt ]

[ light(?) angst ]

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"Good morning, Wakabayashi-san." Her voice is scratchy as he wakes him. She smiles tiredly and hesitantly, feeling him holding one of her hands in both of his. Genzo feels himself freezing, so many emotions flooding through him before he smiles back, even if there's tears beginning to flow down his cheeks. He hasn't seen her smile in months, not like that.

He whispers her name so softly, with a relief and revering typically reserved for prayer. It takes him a moment to speak, but all he can manage is a lame: "Hi."

"I'm sorry," her voice is hushed, a whisper full of choked sobs. The knife clatters to the floor as her fingers cover her face, smearing a vibrant crimson across her skin. Shame, guilt, self-hatred – they all come rushing back. She whimpers, shaking as he remains frozen in the doorway.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Neither of them say a thing - her room is dead silent, but the air is warm. She wants to say she's sorry, and they both know that he knows it. So she doesn't speak. He wants to say he's so glad she opened her eyes and that she's steady on her way to recovery, how worried he's been, and they both know that she knows it.

So Genzo presses his forehead against her knuckles, and cries.

He cries, and cries, and cries, the guilt overwhelming. And yet he finds himself in her loose embrace, the girl leaning over slightly and wrapping her arms around his form.

He drops to his knees, breathing shallow as he envelops her trembling form, his own eyes growing wet. There's blood on the bathroom floor, his shuddering breaths loud in her ear as that sticky red stains his clothes, her tears soaking into his skin as he holds her so gently. He holds her as if she'd shatter if he held any tighter, he holds her as if she'd disappear if he held any lighter.

"It's okay, Wakabayashi-san. You didn't do anything wrong. Don't blame yourself. This is all my fault."

She's so kind, giving him forgiveness like this. He knows damned well he doesn't deserve her forgiveness, her warmth, her kind words, nothing. He doesn't deserve anything she gives him.

He's too horrified by the sight of her blood messily spread across the walls and the cuts in her skin to realize he needs to call the hospital. Her father has to do it for him, seeing how the young man is whispering words so softly, so quietly that he can't hear them from the door.

He's not so sure he wants to know what those words are.

"No, that's not it. I'm so happy you woke up but I," a hiccup cuts off Genzo's violently trembling voice, almost cracking as he holds her tightly. "I just..."

"What's wrong?"

She waits patiently for him, even if he's making her bed wet with the gentle rain falling from his eyes. How can she still treat him like this even after he failed the girl as a friend?

There is pain in his very soul, agony wracking his body as he numbly sits in the car taking him to the hospital behind her. The blood felt like it had been everywhere, even though he was sure it wasn't in all actuality. Her tears were weak, her eyes red from how hard she'd been crying for Lord knows how long before he found her. But it shouldn't have happened in the first place. He should have been there for her.

He failed her.

Even when she presses her lips to his forehead, he can't choke out the words he's wanted to say for years. Because he doesn't deserve to know what her answer would be. Even when he tries to say it, that simple phrase is mangled in his mind, shaped into something his mind finds safer.

I love you, he wants to say, and yet it comes out so wrong.

"I won't let this happen again."

The girl chuckles, petting his head.

"It won't. I promise."

The air is thick with tension, but he has to tolerate it. He can't confess to a girl who he so strongly believes would never return his feelings. Her warmth is so comforting, he still selfishly wants it all for himself. So Genzo nuzzles a little closer and falls asleep, head on her lap, and the girl's calloused hands comb her fingers through his hair.

Maybe one day, Genzo Wakabayashi will be good enough for her. But today is not that day.