Ch.1- Don't You Dare Look At Me That Way

ch.1- don't you dare look at me that way

One shot after the other.

The alcohol leaves a tinge on your throat every time you gulp one down.

A good tinge, maybe. The burn was necessary.

Later, that would go away too. Maybe your feelings could be drowned with them.

You would keep on going until the tears you kept in couldn't be held back anymore.

Another shot. And the other. One more.

Like a thirsty, dehydrated man finally having the chance to gulp down water.

Couldn’t think- only drink.

Rational thoughts had to be kept at bay. Words in your head couldn’t do- not right now.

Would you swallow and gulp down your emotions only to have them come back up another time?

Ordering more and more shots until the bartender had to stop serving you.

His words didn’t go through your head, but you could guess.

Sighing and coughing, tears welled up in your eyes.

All you wanted to do was to melt in a puddle and never wake up ever again.

For someone to find you and cup you in their hands and try not to let the water spill through their fingers.

But of course you couldn’t have that—it was your fault again. Again. Was it always your fault now?

Every single relationship, every broken promise, every little chance, all gone. Has it been your fault all this time?

You put your head in your hands and leaned onto the table. You couldn’t stay here in this state mentally now. You needed to go. But who would pick you up?

You racked your mind to try to find somebody who would come over and drive you back, yet you couldn’t think of any, the alcohol interfering with much of your thought process.

Giving up on your memory, you scrolled through your phone contacts to check.

C- CHOSO KAMO

Oh… it’s him… was he the one who broke up with you? You couldn't remember, but you knew you could trust him at your most vulnerable point.

You opened the message chat.

Relieved that he agreed, you turned your phone off and let your head rest onto the bar table. What you needed to do now was to enjoy the sweet feeling of the alcohol warming your chest and... and...

When you woke up, you first didn’t know where you were. As you looked around the dark place, you realized that this was Choso’s living room, and he laid you onto his couch. Feeling grateful that he went through with his promise, you stood up and headed into his kitchen to get a glass of water.

You peeked at the oven clock, 1:43 AM.

You were asleep for… How long? Maybe three hours?

Filing through his cabinets, you were thinking about how unfamiliar yet familiar your surroundings were. Having spent so much time here, you were still trying to find where he kept the glasses. Finally having found it, you grabbed one and slowly filled it with water. After filling up two glasses and downing them, you turned off the tap and set the glass down.

The headache was still there—just not as intense. You headed back to the couch you woke up on and lay down.

The more time you had doing nothing, the more time you had to think, but you didn’t want to think. It would all circle back to him—the one who ripped your heart out. You feel like it shouldn’t be hard—you feel like it shouldn’t hurt you this much. You’ve been through bad breakups all the time. So why did this one hurt the most?

Was it because you genuinely thought this would go somewhere?

Or were you just hopelessly in love again?

Again, your tears swelled up in your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this forever.

Muffling your cries with a pillow, you turn over on the couch and try to go back to sleep.

But he heard you. Stepping out his bedroom door, Choso pokes his head outside to check the living room. Seeing that you were still awake, he quietly went up to you and tapped you gently on the shoulder.

Startled by his touch, you hiccup and turn around to face Choso with an understanding look.

Seeing him turned the quiet sobs into loud wails. Finally having someone to rant to, you grabbed onto his sleeve to hold onto him, to know that you wanted him to stay.

He sits down on the couch beside you and offers his shoulder.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Choso couldn’t understand why.

Why would you always torture yourself like this?

Here you were, crying again on his shoulder after a particularly nasty breakup you had with your nth boyfriend already.

Why couldn’t you just realize that you could end all of this misery just by being with him?

Choso reels back at the thought. He didn’t want to seem obnoxious, thinking that he’s the only good one for you. You’re allowed to live your own life; he didn’t want to control what he felt was the most intimate part of a person’s journey.

He saw you grow up, right alongside him. He saw your old habits, your new ones, and the same laugh he’d loved for what seemed like eons now.

How your love for drawing when you were young turned into learning how to animate when you were older, how your natural talent in science turned into a major in biochemistry. How your teasing nature turned into the “magical ability to attract losers left and right,”

But he loved it. He loved every bit of you. Yet, after all these years, he still couldn’t find the words, and he still couldn’t find the courage. So he ends up being forced to watch you pick up a new guy every month, and either you drop them or they drop you. He knows you try to play it off as nothing, but he can see that each breakup really affects your mental health, even if just a bit. You would always just brush it off, “It’s no big deal,” you would say, and it truthfully wasn’t. But it didn’t stop Choso from getting increasingly more worried every broken relationship he watches you get into. A never-ending cycle that just leaves Choso heartbroken every time he sees your heart get broken. He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a twinge of jealousy every time he saw a new guy come over, have drinks, or even sneak off into your room doing god knows what. Each day, he kept himself sane knowing that (or at this point, praying) that it’s going to end in a week or two, that it’s never going to last, and he shouldn’t get too riled up over it.

Yet each time he sees your eyes, genuinely in love, only to be broken and empty by the end of the week, he swears he’ll stop you the next time. He swears he’ll do something to stop your heartbreak.

Now, you were here, crying over your most recent breakup. He sits there, offering comforting pats to your arm as he wonders where you ever get the strength to bounce back so quickly.

But he wants it to stop. Not for his sake anymore, but for yours now.

“Hey, it’s fine; there’s no need to cry anymore,” he whispers, trying to soothe your mood. “He was a complete jerk anyway; it’s going to be alright.”

You sniffle loudly as you tilt your head to look up at him, only to find a pair of soft eyes looking right back at you. A thought flashes through your mind that only makes you want to sob harder.

Nobody ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me right now.

Your past boyfriends never did. Why did you even bother with them again? Ugh, it’s all coming down again, and you have nothing better to do than just wail harder and harder into his shoulder.

“Everything’s gonna be okay… let it all out...” you hear him say. Oh, how much you appreciated him so much for moments like these. His assuring presence always grounds you, no matter how messed up you were now. You loved how he was always there for you. But did you really love him, or his actions? Aren’t you simply just benefiting off of his kindness now?

The night continued as your sniffles finally started to slow down, and your energy finally began to run out, leading you to fall right asleep on his bed.

Choso didn’t mind. He took some extra blankets and covered your snoozing figure and went to sleep in the guest room, making sure to check that Yuji was asleep and wasn’t woken up.

As he climbed into the bed, Choso sighed, thinking again about how unfair it was for you to get treated like this all the time. Yet, it was still your life. He didn’t want to interfere or appear too stuck up. He would bide his time. Keep reaching out his hand.

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new kid! fushiguro megumi who....

new kid! fushiguro megumi who knew that he wasn’t sure what to make of this place yet, wasn't truly sure about his new life that was begnning for him as he leaves the old one behind. that was just too honest of him.

the new house was bigger than their last one, lived-in but unfamiliar. his new room smelled like fresh paint, and his small stash of belongings were still packed away in unopened boxes. this was his new life now. this new arrangement.

his elder sister tsumiki had reassured him before she left for college. told him gojo satoru would watch over him. told him he wouldn’t be alone. that there were great kids in the neighborhood, people he could get along with.

at least, that’s what gojo said. but megumi wasn’t sure he wanted to meet them, or get to know them just yet. he was still on the fence about it, just as with everything in his life. just as with everything else that could ever come. but perhaps, he’d just have to wait and see.

new kid! fushiguro megumi wasn’t sure how the story of it all even started. somehow, he was certain that there was that quiet pull, the subtle gravity that drew him toward the space just beyond the creaky wooden fence separating his world from yours.

somehow, it was a cosmic demand. it was somehow a certain destiny being aligned by the stars. something that megumi had thought maybe only possible in movies.

and yet, as much as it was destiny, it was also his own choice. he sat there, enjoying the sun in the solitude and made that choice, that move to turn his head, and find the world beyond him grow into the words that make up the word, 'you'.

new kid! fushiguro megumi found himself watching you from afar, all of a sudden. but of course, in a proper way. in a respectful way. definitely not in a way that felt intrusive, but as if trying to understand something just beyond his reach.

he knew better than that. he knew better than to cause someone to feel uncomfortable. he didn’t want to make people around him feel rough about it. and so he was trying, he was trying to look away. he gulped. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t look away from you.

new kid! fushiguro megumi thinks that maybe it’s the way you carried yourself with a serene grace, one that he’d never seen from anyone in his entire life before. one that he found himself admiring every little dawn of day he could see you from afar.

megumi didn’t expect you to notice him first. but you did, you happily did. but he thinks that it was easy, especially with those heavy rumbling footsteps against the mossy grass. it was loud enough, he supposed. and you noticed, you found him, like destiny wanted.

“you’re staring at me.” you said one afternoon, voice gentle but teasing. you weren’t facing him, but somehow, you still knew.

megumi stiffened, ears burning. “i—i’m not.”

you tilted your head slightly, as if listening. “you are.”

megumi suddenly felt very, very out of his depth. “sorry.” he muttered, turning away. but then he heard you laugh—soft, light, like wind chimes in the breeze.

“it’s okay, don't worry.” you said, voice carrying over the fence. “i stare too, sometimes. well, even if it's just dark. it's still something that exists in this world.”

megumi blinked, confused. you lifted a hand, fingers brushing over the petals of a flower beside you. “i like to feel things. it helps me see them.”

oh. he thinks to himself as his throat tightens.

new kid! fushiguro megumi felt something in his chest shift in that moment. before he could think too hard about it, he reached over the fence, plucking a small blossom from a low-hanging branch. he hesitated only for a second before extending it toward you.

“here.” megumi says to you in response.

you took it without hesitation, fingertips grazing his knuckles as you traced the delicate petals. “this one feels nice.”

fushiguro megumi swallowed. “yeah?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “you have a good eye. for things like this, huh?"

".....yeah, i guess so."

you hummed, almost to happily. "you're already so interesting, new kid. i look forward to you in the future too."

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never considered himself particularly thoughtful, started noticing things. and it had made him just as bitter, just as angry. and just as eager, to do more for you.

he noticed how the world wasn’t always built for you. how uneven pavement made you slow your steps, how certain things were placed just out of reach, how people spoke to you like you were delicate, like you might break if they weren’t careful.

and he hated it. he could feel it burning in his chest, that anguish. almost like a fever that could just as easily burn everything in its path as he looked at you, still smiling.

how can you smile like that? he asks himself in the quiet. how can you still be so good to the world, when it makes you feel so alone?

new kid! fushiguro megumi clenched his fists so tightly, it turned brutishly red. he couldn't let this pass. he won't. this is isn't what you deserved. you deserved so much more. you deserved the very best. no, no. you deserved the world. you deserved to have it at the palm of your hands.

megumi wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him. but it did. it mattered to him that you were comfortable. it mattered to him that you had all that could make your life as normal as possible. so you could live with a smile in your face, a true one.

he started small, he started from where he could. when he noticed a branch hanging too low on your usual path, he snapped it off without a word. when the neighborhood kids left their bikes scattered across the sidewalk, he quietly moved them aside before you walked by.

when the bakery down the street rearranged their display cases, he mumbled a quiet, awkward explanation so you wouldn’t have to fumble around. or when he found books, he worked hard to try and make sure he reads it for you, every little word, even if his voice was hoarse from it.

new kid! fushiguro megumi thinks that there was nothing special about it. he was only doing what he should. moving things out of your way, describing things when it seemed like you wanted to know, standing beside you when the world got too loud. it wasn’t extraordinary. it wasn’t something to be praised.

it was just normal. just expected. that’s why he never said anything about it. never drew attention to it. never expected you to notice. but you did. it was ever so easy to notice. you were blind, that’s certain. but you were no fool.

you noticed how the world seemed a little easier when he was around. how the things that once stood in your way disappeared before you could even reach them. how he always stood just close enough, just within reach, but never too close—never forcing, never assuming, just there.

you noticed how his voice, though often hesitant, carried a quiet kind of care when he spoke to you. how his words, though awkward and sometimes clumsy, were always meant to bring you closer to the world he saw.

“you move things, don't you?” you said that sunny afternoon, your tone unreadable. "i can feel it, you know."

megumi froze. “i don’t—”

you smiled knowingly. “you do.”

"you take care of things, don't you?" you murmured, fingers trailing over the petals of a flower he had left for you on the fence. "quietly. carefully."

megumi, who had been standing on the other side, stiffened. "i don’t—"

you smiled, tilting your head slightly. "you do."

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who had never been good at taking credit, looked away, scowling. he found his face as red as the scarlet sunset behind you both. he purses his lips in a flat line.

megumi thinks about how much of his life had been spent making himself feel so insignificantly small in that quiet, unobtrusive prison he had made for himself, a prison he shouldn't even be in.

almost all the sudden, megumi thinks that he felt seen in a way that made his heart stumble. in a way he doesn't think he ever thought he could ever deserve in this life. he doesn't think he's a good person.

and yet, here you were, smiling at him and telling him that he was a good person. that he was someone you appreciated. that he was someone you were thankful for, someone you cherished.

"you don’t have to....and yet....." you paused for a moment. "somehow, you do anyway."

his fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. he didn’t know what to say to that. so he just mumbled, "don't think too much of it."

but you reached out, fingertips brushing over the rough wood of the fence, stopping just short of his. you shake your head at him. "it is too much. it is everything, megumi-chan."

“it’s not a big deal.” he grumbles under his breath. "anyone could have done that. you know that."

but you reached out, fingers brushing against his wrist before he could tuck his hands into his pockets. he felt his breath hitch as he found himself closer to you. it was as though this moment was the first time he'd ever found himself understanding what the word spring truly means when your touch was against his own.

“it is to me.” you whispered back to him. a small smile sweeping your tender lips. "it is a big deal. because it's you.....so thank you, megumi-chan. thank you for being good to me."

he grew even redder, flustered at your tenderness. he rubs the back of his head, feeling his heart pound. "you give people too much credit! you're too nice. how are you this nice?"

you giggled at him. "but arent't you nice too?"

"am not!" he murmured under his breath, still ever so red.

"ah, you're pretty red, aren't you?"

"shut up!"

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never cared for praise, found that your words sat warm in his chest long after you’d gone. there was that thought that maybe spring could last forever, whenever you smiled at him.

there was a thought that his day would feel complete because you were there to tell him that you were thankful that he came into your life to help him through it all, even the little things.

he never thought that your words would pull at his heartstrings in this way, playing his heart into a symphony that could only be built in the benevolent heart of someone like you. and so, he found himself addicted to the sound of his heart beating, leaping over and over again.

perhaps that is what it was, some sort of calling. this new kid on the block without purpose, found one. that was to stay by your side no matter come what may. because nothing was more addictive to him, than this feeling.

these overwhelming feelings that drown him in this eternal sea, each and every single time. he knew that, almost too certainly. and there was no escape. and he knew deep down, he didn't want to escape it. not when you smile like that. not when you smile at him, smile because of him.

new kid! fushiguro megumi started describing things more, in his own awkward way. with great detail. he knew he wasn't as good as most people in describing things. or being passionate about it out loud. but you seemed to enjoy it very much. you were smiling through it all.

“the sky looks kinda weird today. all gray, like someone smudged the clouds.” he’d say a bit dryly. or, in some rare warm whispers, “the cherry blossoms are blooming. they look like—uh, you know, pink and fluffy.”

"is it really?" you gasped, almsot too excitedly at some points. "oh, megumi-chan! what's the shape of the clouds? oh, oh! how about the birds in the sky? are they as graceful as how the documentaries say?"

he knew that wasn’t great with words, but you never seemed to mind. if anything, it made you seem contented in the warmth of spending time together, even if the words don't echo them exactly.

because if one was asking the correct things, this would be the question: what is the right words, the perfect words, when every action already blossomed the warm kindness the sun could never gift you? that's what you asked him.

and he wasn't sure at all, if he had any answer for you. instead, he lets his hand brush carefully against your own, his green-blues not leaving your misty ones. you found your lips curving into the brightest of smiles, teeth and all. megumi thinks that these smiles are the very best. these were the ones he cherishes most when you were together.

"you're good to me, megumi-chan. thank you."

"you're good to me too." he whispers under his breath, red appearing agianst his cheeks. ".....i hope you know that."

you giggled. "hm, hm. i know."

new kid! fushiguro megumi wasn’t sure when it started. when did it turly start; these feelings that were too loud for him to ignore. these rhythmic symphonies his heart composes when he sees your face, at peace under a willow tree.

maybe it was the first time you held his hand without hesitation, trusting him without question. or maybe it was the way you always seemed to know when he was nearby, even when he hadn’t said a word. he doesn't know how it all begun.

but all he knew was that he had these feelings. he had these smiles on his lips. he had these red cheeks blossoming hot. he had you, by his side letting them repeat over and over again.

new kid! fushiguro megumi who had spent almost all of his life keeping the world, the people, life itself at arm’s length slowly finds himself realizing that he was letting you in those impenetrable walls without even a single cost. he has let go without a fight.

but how could he do such a thing, when he has too much desire to keep you by his side like this? how could he find himself hidden away from you in these strong holds when he wanted for you to feel the warmth in his tone, the kindness in his touch?

it was easy to notice it in the small things, how he had utterly surrendered to you. how he started looking for you first whenever he stepped outside. how he’d listen for your voice over the hum of the neighborhood. how the air around you always felt a little lighter, a little warmer.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who had always been good at avoiding emotions, was starting to realize—he was falling in love. so utterly, miserably, happily, undoubtly, ever so certainly in love and it was with you. always you. it was never going to stop being you.

that spring afternoon, that youthful spring that belonged only to the two of you. it was ever so beautiful. he couldn't explain it. was the tree beautiful because you were under it, or were you beautiful because you were the apple of his eyes?

when he found you sitting in your blossoming garden, your fingers lightly skimming over the open pages of the book. your fingers gently brushed itself against the tactile echoes all across the pages, the words forming through those elegant bridges of braille recognizable from where he stood.

“you don’t have to read in braille, you know.” he said, standing just beyond the fence. “i could read to you.”

you tilted your head toward him, smiling softly. “you would?”

he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yeah. if you wanted.”

“hmm, i guess.” you hummed, considering. “but do you even like reading out loud?”

he looked away. “not really. not stuff like this, at least."

you laughed, quiet and knowing. “but you’d do it anyway?”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “...yeah.”

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who wasn’t good at saying things outright, suddenly felt very obvious. he felt like he didn't know who this person was, being so bold as to stand before you and be so ever brave.

he could see that well hidden mirth in your glassy eyes, ever so happy to just be there with him this way. even if you couldn't see everything, you were so good at knowing the wondrous picture forming before you. you could read him, even if you couldn't see him. and he knew that too well.

you grinned at him. soon enough, you only patted the empty space beside you. “then come sit with me.”

and just like that, he did.

he always will, you know that.

that's how he perhaps, loves you.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never cared for the thought of happy ever after, or whatever those fairy tales say, found himself reading them to you with such uncharted passion anyway.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never needed the warmth of many people, found himself wanting to stay by your side. hoping for the immortality of that joy that comes from being together.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who wasn’t sure when it started, knew one thing for certain now— he was already yours. and he doesn't care for how it ends, or how it becomes. his dream, his truest dream, was to remain by your side, smiling under the beckoning sunrise.