Chapter Text
"Huh?"
Karamatsu was a man of composure. Composure meaning in this case, putting on a false persona and thus being able to handle any situation fairly well.
But at this current moment, he had none.
Why?
Because, at this particular current moment, karamatsu was holding a post it note with a number on it. Not any random number, either; it was an actual, 10 digit number, spaces and all.
Karamatsu was holding a phone number he had been willingly given.
He squinted at the handwriting again; surely, this wasn't a joke, right? Of course not! How could he think such a thing of his flower? Throughout the entirety of his pen palsmanship with you, you had always stayed rather straightforward serious in terms of your responses; even the fact that you had replied to him was something to celebrate - clearly only you could handle such eloquent and expertise writing!
Although...he stared at the sticky note in his hand with a frown; he never expected any of that to lead to...this.
Not that it was a bad thing! Of course not! He was in shock, truth be told. His own Karamatsu Fan, giving him a phone number? The guts you had to do something like that! He liked it. But it also made him nervous.
He twisted his fringe between his fingers as he glanced around the room. Currently only the second born was at home; which, despite his immense compassion and unconditional love for his brothers, was a good thing. He only risked reading and writing his letters when no one was in the house, and even then he made sure to keep the archive of them somewhere safe; where exactly somewhere safe in this household was, he didn't know. But underneath the floorboards was good enough.
Usually, Karamatsu found great joy in sharing things with his brothers; or at least, the idea of recognition was there. But the letters? Private. It was different in his eyes, what you and he did; it wasn't meant to be bragged about, and for once the prospect of being ignored suited him very well. He told you about his brothers openly, sure, but the opposite could be said for the reverse; he knew what would happen if they found out and it would be...disastrous.
This particular reason, was why having your phone number in this household, just existing, was a very, very bad idea. In use? Also disastrous. He would be a fool to call your number on the home phone of all things. He wanted to call you, of course; but what could he do?
Ah. He snapped his fingers; it was simple.
Buy a phone.
It didn't even matter if it was a smart phone or a straight up flip phone; he just needed something. But how could a NEET afford a phone in general?
...He'd figure that out later.
For now, however, he took a new sheet of paper, got a pen out and began to compose his next letter.
---
"You did what?"
You, unlike Karamatsu, were not a person of composure. Composure meaning in this case, being able to deal with the criticisms of your teacher (which was an extreme exaggeration).
And, at this current moment, surprise surprise, you had absolutely none.
Why?
Because, at this particular current moment, you were in the lecture hall, being questioned for sending someone who was barely your acquaintance your phone number.
You shuffled around a bit, unable to look into his eyes "Wh-what's so wrong with offering another way of contact?"
He quirked an eyebrow questioningly "Wrong? Well, nothing is wrong with giving your phone number, it's just that...you know..."
Um? What did that mean? ""You know"...? Don't leave me in the dark, sir"
He took a moment to think about it "Hm, well, sending your number is something you'd do when trying to court someone, not letter writing." Blinking a few times, his expression suddenly melted into amusement. Oh no. "I didn't think Karamatsu was your type"
There it was! That land mine of a statement! With an equally explosive reaction, you immediately retorted back "No! It's not--" oh, it so was, "it's not like that..! I-I gave my number for a sensible reason--"
"To get to know Karamatsu better--"
"A-Again, no! So I can improve my Japanese pronunciation and--"
"Couldn't you just do that with me?"
"W-Well, yes, but I..." The certainty of sending your phone number that had been woven not too long ago was now slowly unravelling at each statement being thrown your way. With a sigh, you mumbled your petty excuse for a reason "...We can both improve our languages this way. It'll help him as well as me."
Clearly, your teacher was taken aback by that as he lit up with surprise "So you want to help him? Am I hearing that correctly? Help? Are pigs flying now, too?"
Oh my god. Your head shot up to look at him now "Why are you bullying me like this?!" Seriously; were you not allowed to be a decent human being anymore?
Your teachers amusement only grew further as he struggled to contain his laughter "I'm only joking," he saw that you were not struggling to contain laughter, and calmed down, a genuine smile spreading across his face "honestly, though, I'm really pleased you want to do this; you've really grown."
...
"Anyway, I'm off now."
"Ah, alright then! Update me when you two start calling each other, alright?"
"Haha, no." You opened the door to leave, and made a quick exit from the room.
--
"You've really grown."
Had you, though?
You contemplated this as you headed home, lugging along with you a bag that wasn't nearly as heavy as the thoughts you had tumbling around in your mind. Growing as a person was quite an important and large stage of life; so really, wasn't 'grown' too big of a word to use in your situation? All you had done was offer help to your new pen pal; and even then, it was for a convoluted and selfish reason. 'Grown' was most definitely the wrong word to use here.
A sudden vibration jolted you out of your mind; was that...? Oh! Your phone--
Your phone.
"Oh god," you fumbled about in your pockets for the offending item, heartbeat quickening. Was it him...? Had Karamatsu decided to call you? Maybe he had received the letter and immediately dialled up the number to call you; how sweet! But, I mean, what were you going to say...? Oh, no what were you going to say?! Was this going to be awkward? Oh, this was so going to be awkwa--
Call from: Mother
Oh. Okay, then.
You would say you felt "relieved", however, this was your mother, so it gave you just as much panic and distress. You very reluctantly tapped 'answer' and pressed the phone to your ear.
"Um, hello--
A loud and cheerful voice interrupted your greeting "Morning, sweetie! How are you?"
Yep, thats your mother alright. You pulled the phone away from your ear a little to avoid becoming permanently deaf "Uh, I'm okay. How are y--"
"Are you sure? Have you been eating well? Are you getting plenty of sleep?"
A small smile made its way across your face as you rolled your eyes "Yes, yes, and yes. You don't have to worry so much. Now, how are you?"
"You know how I am! I'll never stop worrying!" A surprisingly soft laugh was followed by a soft sigh "well, I'm alright. Work is work; busy busy busy! You know how it is nowadays, with all this travelling and long hours..."
Oh no; she actually sounded sad? "Maybe you should take a brea--"
"Yes! Exactly what I was thinking." Oh no; she immediately sounded okay again?! "In fact, I might do so in a few months or so, August time?"
You knew exactly where this was going.
"Okay? Good for you."
"..."
Don't give in.
"..."
Don't.
"...well, aren't you going to ask me what I'll be doing?" ah, she cracked before you did!
But...you hadn't actually seen her in a while. You guessed it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with your mother, so..."No, because I already know exactly what you'll be doing."
"Brilliant! So I'll see you sometime in August?"
"When exactl--"
"Fantastic! I've got to get going now, but I'll see you soon!" Oh no no no don't just give a vague time like that!
"W-wait-- hang on a minute--!"
She hung up.
Brilliant.
Oh well. That was months away; no need to think about it now; you'd just jot it on your calendar and forget about the ticking time bomb that was your mother giving you a visit. Besides, you already had another ticking time bomb to be worrying about right now; and that was Karamatsu calling you.
With a more enthusiastic bounce in your step, you set off home, the anticipation of Karamatsu's deliciously deep voice vibrating from your phone fuelling both nerves and excitement throughout your system.
---
It had been a week.
At first, it was understandable; he wouldn't receive the letter exactly a week from when it had been sent, you weren't that dumb. In fact, it may well had taken longer to arrive. The situation was fine. But then the first few days turned into four, and then four days turned into five, six. To say you weren't currently panicking would be an absolute lie, as staring into the void of your phone's screen had become common occurrence; you were desperate.
Shamefully, pathetically desperate.
It wasn't much of a surprise then, when you got caught in the process of gazing into the phone like one would if they had just been told all of their friends had decided to move away to the other side of the world, forever.
"Did somebody die?"
A flinch. It was your teacher, who had probably had enough of your moping about. But you sank back into your chair, slowly melting from existence further. You didn't even look up.
"Yes,"
He made a slight choking noise.
"Oh I-- I was joking but-- I'm so sorr--"
"My soul."
"...what?"
You finally looked up "My soul. It died. A slow, painful death over the course of a week."
He was not impressed.
"Karamatsu's been rubbing off on you too much, eh?"
Flinch. "Not really..."
"Oh, speaking of Karamatsu," he looked down to the rectangular device in your hands "how's it going?"
Silence.
"Uh, have you two talked yet?"
More silence.
"...are you okay?"
See, here was where you should have said "yes.". You should have gone ahead and explained "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just still waiting for karamatsu to call me back; its understandable! I can handle it."
But, no. What did you wisely decide to do instead?
Whimper.
That's right. You emitted what could only be described as a whimper. A pathetic, desperate whimper. You caved in.
"I-I think I've been rejected, and I don't know why?" Your voice went up an octave higher than it should've been, further adding to the disgraceful state you were displaying right now. You paused, before adding "I'm not that bad, am I?"
His expression somehow managed to capture both humour and pity and you folded back into your chair in shame; hearing footsteps move away from your pity party further confirmed that this was too much even for the teacher. Well now you've done it. You've exposed your disgusting need for attention; congratulations, you toilet wipe.
And then you heard footsteps come back.
"Look."
You lifted your head.
A letter. Not just any letter, though.
It was seeping glitter.
"Wait, really? Really?"
He couldn't help but laugh a little "Yes. I just got this one yesterday, actually."
You took it from his hand, and he tried shaking off the mess from his fingertips, "wouldn't stop getting glitter everywhere, though. I didn't really miss that to be honest." It didn't come off his hand.
If that's the case, then... "Why didn't he call?"
"Open the letter and find out."
"B-but--" you spluttered "what if it's a letter of rejection!?"
"Oh, stop worrying already!" He pointed to the item in question "Just open it up."
It was more of a command than a suggestion, so you took the hint and began tearing the flap away--
"Ah-- W-wait, wait!"
"What? now you don't want me to look inside?"
"No, its--" He stared pointedly at the glitter beginning to cover the desk, "it would be better if you opened that somewhere else; we actually got complaints from the cleaning lady last time..."
"Oh, wow."
"I know." He paused. "will you be alright doing that yourself..?"
You nodded "Mhn. I may seem emotionally unstable, but I can manage." you think so, anyway.
"Okay. Don't come crying back to me if its bad news, though!"
"Sir."
"I'm joking, i'm joking."
You rolled your eyes "See you later, sir."
--
You were home. The letter remained for the most part unopened on the kitchen counter as you made yourself a cup of tea.
It was strange how you had practically cried of neglect from your pen pal, yet the moment you actually received any form of communication, it got you shaking with nerves. Seriously, it wasn't stamped in big block writing "Letter of rejection" but that was all you could see through your pity tinted glasses; even the glitter in this state seemed tragic. You could already imagine it; each fleck of holographic plastic represented an audience member, all waving goodbye to the lead part in this tale of romance and tragedy...
The kettle screamed and you quickly shook your head out of your thoughts. It was as if Karamatsu had manifested within you during the week long wait; and if that was how long it took for you to go delusional, that was slightly concerning.
Oh well. You poured the boiling hot water into your favourite mug. It was quite satisfying watching the liquid brew into a rich brown colour; even more so when after impatiently pressing the teabag against the mug, the milk was added and mixed mesmerizingly into a lovely golden hue. Perfect.
The cup of tea was transferred to the small kitchen table and, reluctantly, so was the letter.
Whilst waiting for the tea to cool down, you attempted opening the letter a few more times. Pull away at the flap, put it back down. Repeat. By the time you went to take a sip of your drink the flap had miraculously been completely pulled away, and currently sitting in a bath of glitter that had also managed to go over your clothes a bit. Whoops.
As slightly scalding tea slided down your throat, you took a moment to close your eyes and contemplate things. Breathe in. The steam of the drink rising into your face. your toes curled up onto the cool floor tiles. the hard surface of the chair. the stagnant air in the kitchen. Breathe out. The anxiety of rejection rising up in your stomach. the feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball against the cool floor tiles. The hard realities that have to be faced. The tendency for you to stay stagnant in fear of change. Breathe in. Breathe out.
You opened your eyes once more. It was okay. You could do it. Open the goddamn letter.
When the paper slided out (along with another cascade of glitter), you shook slightly in anticipation of anything and everything, and unfolded it. It was like pulling away at a band aid, really, waiting for the sting of pain to come; but it didn't. Of course, Karamatsu's endearing poetic muse meant that a simple "No, i dont want your phone number" wasn't going to be found on the page, so sifting through the letter would be required. No, this was going to be more like tearing off a band aid very slowly and very carefully; so that the pain was excruciatingly longer than necessary. You began to read:
To my Siren of the sea,
Oh, how it feels to know the siren themself enjoyed my mere attempt at angelic hymns; maybe one day the sailor will serenade the siren? It all shall rest in the hands of fate and destiny!
He had underlined 'fate' and 'destiny' and drawn sparkles around them. What a dork. You smiled.
What must also be the cause of fate and destiny, is what you attatched to your letter. These feelings are even harder to describe, and the word "happy" is far too simplistic; but at its core is this exact feeling.
Something in you calmed down considerably; he hadn't rejected you. he hadn't rejected you! He hadn't! Thank goodness.
However--
Oh wait never mind. He totally had. He totally had! He had! He--
--the siren must wait for the sailor to gather the materials required to do such a thing; he must build a better, stronger boat to sail the waves of the sea without sinking into the depths of the ocean. Horrible creatures reside there that can and will pull me under...but do not fear, my siren! Once the boat can sail our voices shall meet once more, and what a delight that will be!
This was confusing. So, he wanted to call you, but was currently unable to...because of something or someone? And despite that, he was going to find a way to do it anyway...? Maybe?
Since the siren deserves it nonetheless, i shall give you what is required to request my unstable boat; but i must ask for it to be used only in the most urgent of emergences!
Underneath was a phone number, which you made note to jot it down somewhere.
Thank you for understanding, my siren. Until the day we can hear each other once again, it seems that the 'prompt sheet' you gave me must be used once more. Therefore, I shall pick number--
You were interrupted by a sudden noise; a ringtone. Of course someone would do this whilst you were actually doing something. Nevertheless you put the letter down, pushing away from the table to go search for your phone. It was right where you expected it to be; in your jacket's pocket that had been carelessly thrown onto the sofa. You pulled out the item in question and looked at the screen.
Huh. An unknown number. Even more annoyi--
Wait.
You had the sneaking suspicion that this number resembled...you quickly stumbled to the kitchen and picked up the letter again, looking between the number on the screen and the number on the paper frantically.
They matched.
They matched.
But why...?
One side of you screamed to let the call go; to press 'ignore', and carry on reading the letter. The other side of you however also screamed to answer the call right now in risk of losing an opportunity forever; and in a frenzy of indecisiveness, your stupid, clumsy thumbed twitched enough to tap the screen. But not just any part of the screen. Of course not.
Your thumb just so happened to have pressed 'answer'.
Shit.