caulixnk
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Dear Daichi,
And Suga crosses out the first line already. It has to be perfect. It just has to be, so he tries again.
To Sawamura Daichi,
is quickly crossed out as well. Too formal. Too weird. It has to be perfect; not too formal, not too weird. Hopefully not weird at all, but writing random suicide notes in the middle of the night with no purpose other than to write them is already pretty weird. So Suga tries again.
He doesn’t stop until he thinks he gets it down perfectly, to make his point clear. A love letter and a goodbye letter and a suicide note, all compressed into a neat page in equally neat handwriting, written with a pencil that sketched plays, on paper stolen from his father’s printer. Suga doesn’t stop until he thinks it’s done, and by then, his hand is shaking from pushing himself through cramps.
My dearest, Sawamura Daichi, it reads.
I didn’t think I’d be telling you this way. I never thought that I’d ever tell you at all, but here we are. You, reading. Me, dead.
Bookmarked by caulixnk
04 Mar 2026