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Long awaited spring
ft. Kabu for hollywood
“You want some more, ์ ์๊พธ๋ง ๋ ๊ฐ๋๋ ค ํ๋๊ฑด์ง”
–
It usually took anywhere in between six to eight minutes from home to school if there was regular traffic for the pair that shared a home. But tonight, it damn sure felt barely over four seconds at most. Kunikuzushi even considered making an accidental turn to extend a few more pathetic minutes. In the end, he cursed strings at himself and drove straight as usual when the light shone green. The days were sure getting longer, as they were slowly heading towards March.
It’s alright. What’s the worst possible thing that could happen?
What if she just threw him out? Slammed the door in his face and told him never to come back? The image sent a chill down his spine, her eyes glaring, cold as steel, and he’d be left standing on her doorstep, swallowing down all the words he couldn’t say. But what if she went further than that? What if she screamed at him, told him he was nothing but trouble, that he’d only ever brought ruin into her life? He’d think back to every time he’d pushed her, teased her, tried to get a rise out of her just to see her spark. But what if all she saw in him was the reason for every mess in her life? The thought twisted him up inside, his chest tightening. And how could he even stand there, just taking it all, while she let it all out? Could he even bear to see her like that, to be the cause of her anger? Then came the worst of it: what if she started crying? His mind scrambled at the idea of her tears, each one a punch to his chest. He’d never seen her cryโshe was too strong, too stubborn, too much a product of that company’s harsh training to let herself break in front of anyone. But what if he was the reason she finally did? What would he even do then? Stand there, speechless, while she crumbled, unable to reach out, afraid she’d just push him further away? And the thought of outright rejection? He could practically feel itโher dismissive look, that casual wave of her hand as she said, “Go find someone else to bother.” Or worse, her voice cold and steady as she told him she didn’t want anything to do with him. She’d be done with him, like all of this was some foolish game, a bet she was eager to lose just to be rid of him. How was he supposed to bounce back from that? Act like he didn’t care, like her words didn’t sink straight into his core and twist the knife a little deeper. Maybe she wouldn’t even yell. Maybe she’d just look at him with disappointment, that quiet, haunting look that said she’d expected better from him, and he’d know he’d let her down. That was the thing he couldn’t shakeโthat he might be the reason her walls went up a little higher, her heart a little colder.
Alright, fine. Lot’s of things could happen.
After sitting in the car for an indefinite amount of time, (a flat five minutes) he finally opened the door and stepped out onto the concrete ground. A few cars down below the street parking, he heard sounds of another person exiting their vehicle. The two locked eyes and immediately averted their gazes. Some comical timing this was. Y/n was two cars down, stiffly taking her bag out from the passenger seat and fumbling for the keys. They awkwardly came into the house together, each departing to their own room to change and unpack.
This felt no different from readying for a war.
And finally, time had come.
They stood in the kitchen, avoiding each other’s eyes as the silence dragged on. Y/n had been picking at the sleeve of her sweater, glancing up ever so often as though she’d say somethingโthen stopping midway. Meanwhile, Scaramouche leaned against the counter, arms crossed, looking at anywhere else but her. The dim evening light filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the counters, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator.
Swallowing everything down with his saliva and pride, Scaramouche opened his mouth. But so did his roommate.
“I wasโ” “Soโ”
They paused, blinking at each other. “Oh, you should go first..” Y/n awkwardly smiled. He shook his head. “No, go ahead.”
Then silence again.
After another painstaking moment, the indigo haired teacher cleared his throat. “…Sorry for throwing you off like that.” He muttered, gaze elsewhere. Maybe it was the tension and exhaustion from everything getting to her, but his tone sounded much, almost indistinguishably softer than usual. “Threw me off?” Y/n laughed, hoping to shake off the awkwardness. It didn’t. “Yeah… That’s for sure. I meanโit wasn’t a part of the original script, was it?”
He looked away, jaw clenched. A feeling, a strange mix of frustration and something he didn’t want to examine too closely. “It… Was just a spur-of-the-moment, right?” She smiled, but the corners of her grin twitched. Something about her expression tightened, her fingers pulling at the loose thread on the edge of her sleeve. “Yeah… I understand. Maybe you were just too immersed in the character.” As she trailed off, her voice wavered into something close to a barely audible murmur, which irritated him more than he’d like to admit.
Scaramouche pursed his lips, his mind debating on his words on the scale of judgement. But that scale had long been shattered to pieces when it came to herโso the words just came tumbling out anyway.
“No.”
She snapped her head up. Their eyes met for the millionth time, except this time, they didn’t tear away from each other in the first second. Y/n’s eyes lifted, surprise flashing across her face, and suddenly he felt more exposed than he’d ever felt. His instinct was to retreat, make a joke, change the subject, but the way she was looking at him kept him rooted there, painfully, awkwardly. She opened her mouth, then hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. “What…?” Her voice was cautious, and for a second, he thought he saw a flicker of hope in her eyes, quickly masked by that familiar, bright smile.
“No,” He muttered defiantly. “I actually wanted to kiss you, are you deaf? I wanted to.” Scaramouche crossed his arms tightly, almost defensive, feeling ridiculous, exposed, like he’d just confessed some grave secret instead of something as simple as a kiss. “I thought maybe you would’ve noticed. Or cared.” He left on a grumbly tone.
She blinked, her expression softening, her fingers still fidgeting with her sleeve. “It’s not that I didn’t… I justโ” Her words stumbled over themselves, and she let out a shaky breath, gathering her thoughts. “I don’t really understand… Feelings. Not the way other people do, at least.” She sounded almost apologetic, like this was some failing of hers, and it made his frustration waver, morph into a strange sympathy.
He exhaled, his gaze softening despite himself. “I know.” The teacher kept his eyes on her own gaze, but she had cast her vision downwards. He knew, knew the almost superficial demeanour she plastered on everywhere like a part of her colourful little outfits. That’s why he didn’t like her at first. That smile of hers looked unreal, too perfect to look right. Fictional, unreachable.
But he also knew the sides under that plaster, which she didn’t even bother to conceal tightly unlike himself. Almost like she was secretly hoping someone would come and peer inside the shallow husk, but never actually took the outside wall off.
“But do you really?” He challenged. “Would someone who doesn’t understand emotions take in an unfamiliar coworker who visibly doesn’t like her in as a roommate? What was it when you forced me to get up from my room when I was a fucking slump, basic morales or goodness in your heart? Don’t make me laugh.”
The frustrated tone wasn’t really directed at her. Nor was the anger. More so towards her obliviousness, and the fact she saw herself so lowly.
“What was it when you spent time on that fiasco on my birthday when it’s clear nobody else wants to celebrate it? Was it coworker-like when you visited me almost every free lunch period out of anyone else? Jesus christ, say something dammit!” The tips of his ears turned red as he muttered another string of curses and finally looked away. Y/n found herself wordlessly blinking at his outburst. The sheer amount of emotion from his tone almost overwhelmed her. She was tempted to pull her usual move when running into complicated feelings.
To run.
But she swallowed hard, finally letting her fingers free from her sleeves. “I…” Just say it. It’s not that hard.
“โI really don’t understand.” She admitted quietly. Scaramouche glanced back, looking into her eyes despite how she had yet to find the courage to return the eye contact. Moments went by before Y/n continued on. “You’ve seen everything you wouldn’t want to see about someone. No one wants to know such ugly parts.”
Her full blown panic attacks, suddenly bursting into tears and startling him. The dizzying sensation overloads that made her feel like she was melting into the ground. Everything she tried to kick into the back of her everyday life from people had been shown to him despite her lack of consent to it. Before he officially moved in, Y/n initially worried about that part. But she knew the hell of a home that unfolded every day when you didn’t get along with your family. So she risked it and opened her doors.
Maybe she should have never prodded her nose into something none of her business.
“I don’t understand. How could you even stand to be next to someone like me…?”
Her eyes remained blank, but she observed Scaramouche’s eyes widening. Just as she was about to wonder why, something dribbled down her cheek down to her jawline. Huh. So that was why. “Scaramouche. I’m not who I want to be. So take it back, while you have the chance.” Why did her hands tremble? She had been mentally preparing for something like this. The kitchen never felt smaller before today.
“Iโ”
“Who said that smiley trashbag is who I kissed in front of the whole fucking school?”
Her eyes finally blinked as he continued. “I hate that happy to go lucky cosplay. I did, when I first met you. You looked superficial, like you didn’t belong in this world.” Scaramouche uncrossed his arms, unfaltering this time. “The airhead that can cry. That can whine about the smallest thing. That can frown when something’s wrong. That’s real.”
Everything became blurred with the tears that flooded her vision hopelessly.
“And all of that is who you are. Don’t roll your own name in the dirt like thatโ hey, stop crying..!” He frantically wavered his hand awkwardly in the air before reaching out to wipe her eyes. Y/n sniffled, chewing on her bottom lip. There was really nowhere to look except his eyes.
Scaramouche blinked slowly, taking in the sight before him. His mouth was left to ajar open ever so slightly. He quickly snapped back to reality as the tips of his ears turned into a shy shade of crimson. “…You look ugly with those puffy eyes. sigh, come on, let’s go get your face washed like the fugly baby you are.” Taking hold of her wrist, he dragged her over to her bathroom that was cluttered with all sorts of brands and items he never even knew existed in this world. Why she had 5 different hair brushes, was a question for another day.
Despite almost being tempted into dunking her head into the sink to drown, Y/n managed to get through with a burning neck and averted eyes the whole process. Her coworker wasn’t in any better situation, awkwardly offering her a towel that was hung on the rack nearby. They soon quietly returned to where they couldn’t finish up.
Silence was like a hug from an unfamiliar person. In a sense, comforting depending on the situationโbut choking and confusing. No words were exchanged for the first few minutes, both sides carefully choosing their words. But the moment their eyes met again, they both paused;
Awestruck.
Clearing his throat, Scaramouche turned his head a slight angle away from her. “…So, will youโ”
“Meow!”
A blue-black furball hopped onto the dining table, tail stiffling as he nuzzled into the indigo haired male; successfully interrupting him. Just as Scaramouche was about to sigh and give the feline a begrudging pet, a crisp laugh came from across him. Y/n was bent over the table, laughing out hysterically at Kabuki’s cinematic timing. He blinked, staring alongside their cat.
Her disheveled appearance was cast aside, from her unevenly messed hair to her still reddened eyes. Kunikuzushi wasn’t someone who believed in god. Higher entities that apparently answered to pitiful mankind’s prayers if they were nice enough. He believed in something he could know and seeโ something real.
Oh, she was so much more than just real.
Barely calming down from her hysteric cackling, Y/n wiped a tear away. “โOh my goodness. That… pft, That was the best thing I’ve seen today. Phew.” Taking a deep breath, she pressed a hand on her chest that was throbbing from either the previous sobbing or laughing just now. Just as Scaramouche opened his mouth to grumble, he was interrupted a second time.
It was only when he saw and felt her moving her head back that he realized what just happened. And when it did, how she wished more than anything else that she took a picture of his face right then and there. Kabuki meowed in complaint as he was practically swatted off the table as Kunikuzushi raised a stuttery hand up to his face, now both hands covering it. Y/n smugly smiled. “Serves you right.” She stuck her tongue out.
He stayed there in that exact position for who knows how long until she poked his forehead experimentally. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed her hopping onto the table and basically sitting on it in front of him by now. Well, not that any of it mattered at the moment. “Hey, weren’t you the one who was going to confess first? Why are you this shocked?” The art teacher poked fun at him some more. It was an unexpected surprise to see fearsome mr. Raiden practically having steam coming out of his head, speechless.
“If you like me, I question your taste.” Expression softening, Y/n smiled with an unreadable look behind her eyes. “But I think..”
Never did anyone look more ethereal when he finally decided to raise his head.
“I think I like you too. So wait for me, until I can say that without doubt. Got that?” A pinky was outstretched in front of his face. After a moment, he slowly raised his own finger, and she interlocked them together. A childish gesture that meant nothing. Nothing but the trust both parties had in each other, with no other evidence that a promise was made.
“…er long you need.”
“Huh?”
His hand unfolded and hesitantly wrapped around her own hand. “I can wait. Two months or fifty years, however long you need.” He promised, with a foreign squeeze around her fingers. Something fluttered.
“Iโ”
“Meowww~~!”
With deadpan eyes, Scaramouche turned to look at their cat angrily swishing his tail on the ground. Y/n snorted. “We haven’t fed him yet. Come on, stop sulking. You can always tell me later, but Kabu’s gonna pass out if he waits any longer.” She stood up and headed to the kitchen where the cat food was kept, Kabuki eagerly following her footsteps. Her company huffed and folded his arms across his chest. “…Me or that fatass.”
“You two are basically the same thing so no difference no matter what I choose!”
“What? Get back here and say that to my faceโ”
Maybe she should check one of these days, because the snow from the vicious winters seemed to have melted by now. All that’s left was for the green sprouts to emerge as victors from the cruel, icy winds that once froze everything in time.
Maybe, her long awaited spring had finally come with the warm breeze at last.
โโ
A/n
We did it people.
THEYRE TOGETHERRRR
But jokes on you this isnt over yet (dc members that know spoilers shush in the comments)
Yall dont understand i (S)CREAMED WHEN I SAW HIMM
Anyways guess who thought this chap was published since 3 days ago but turns out it was still laying around in her drafts ๐
Hopefully i can binge my updates pretty soon bc i wana finish this up snd focus on my other fics TwT
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